


it only takes a taste

by daintyharru



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Baker Harry, Doctor Nick, Fluff, Gryles, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Harry, Waitress AU, literally just fluff that's it, pies and ice cream and cute flirting and all things good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 08:55:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30103476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daintyharru/pseuds/daintyharru
Summary: “’Ello there, ‘Arry Styles, is it?”Harry nods, holding his hand out and being careful not to jostle the pie. “The one and only.”“I’m Dr. Nick Grimshaw. Lovely to meet you.”“Lovely to meet you, too,” he answers with a smile.Dr. Grimshaw’s eyes flit to the pie, and Harry notices the faint trace of confusion that quickly overtakes his face. “Taking bun in the oven to a whole new level, huh?” he asks, smile threatening to break through the confused look.Harry laughs loudly with a shake of his head. “Guilty,” he answers, and Dr. Grimshaw smiles back at him. “But no, it’s for you. I own a bakery, so sometimes I just...” He shrugs one shoulder like it’ll explain everything. “...do this.”Or, the mpreg Gryles AU loosely based on the Broadway musical Waitress.
Relationships: Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	it only takes a taste

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here! :)
> 
> I started writing this off and on after I saw Waitress on Broadway in 2017, and it's finally, finally done. I feel like I've written so many versions of this over the past couple years, and what this ended up being isn't so much a Waitress AU, but more something loosely inspired by the concept with lots more fluff. 
> 
> Thank you to every single person who has listened to me talk about this fic for literal years now, even when there was no end in sight lmao. And a special thank you to my beta Katelyn who I bounced ideas off of all the damn time.
> 
> Title from It Only Takes a Taste from Waitress <3 I had that in mind a lot while writing certain bits!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

It starts when Harry’s baking a pie.

One moment he’s stirring the blueberries he’s got on the stove, and the next, he catches a whiff of the cinnamon rolls baking in the oven and he’s clamping a hand over his mouth, stomach churning and vomit inevitably coming. He hears the wooden spoon he was using to stir clatter to the ground, and he’s sure it’s left a mess with it, already imagining the blueberry splatter down the side of the oven, but he can’t be bothered to pick it up when he needs to make it to the bathroom  _ right now _ . He makes it just in time, emptying his stomach and standing up miserably. When he pulls himself up, he splashes some water on his face, looking at himself in the mirror and seeing how pale he looks.

Harry takes in a deep breath, blue painted nails braced on the side of the sink. This isn’t the first time he’s felt nauseous lately – the past few days he’s been feeling kind of weird and off, choosing to avoid eating certain foods he loves just in case they upset his tummy – but it’s the first time he’s thrown up. He’d been hoping it was just his allergies since the first signs of spring have been popping up all over the city as April begins to bloom, but he guesses it must be more if his stomach is so off.

He shakes the feeling off, exiting the bathroom in search of a piece of gum. The second he walks out the door Glenne immediately collects him into her arms, always prone to mothering him when his actual mother can’t be there. (She isn’t  _ that  _ much older than him, but he won’t turn down being babied and looked after from time to time, especially when he isn’t feeling well.) “Are you okay, honey?” Glenne asks, brows furrowed in concern as she gently rubs her hand down his back.

Harry does feel better now, actually, the nauseous feeling having mostly passed. He’s still a little lightheaded, and he’s sure his blueberries are burned, but he feels pretty okay. Even the smell of cinnamon that’s now filled the room isn’t bothering him anymore, instead seeming warm and enticing. “I’m good, I think,” he replies with a nod, and before he can say anything else, Glenne is pulling out a stool from a baking table and urging him to sit down.

“I’ll get you some water, H,” she tells him, starting toward the sink.

“What about my blu– ”

“I turned off the stove,” Glenne chirps with a wink as she pulls a clean mug off the counter. “I take care of you, you know that.”

“You’re a saint,” Harry tells her, and she laughs, tinkling and bright as she brings him the water. He nods at her gratefully as he gulps down a few sips, already feeling much better than he did moments ago. “Yeah, I’m good now. Not sure what that was. I hope I’m not coming down with something.”

Glenne frowns, rubbing his shoulder lightly. “Have you felt sick for the past few days or something?”

He debates whether or not to tell her the truth, but with a sigh, he nods. “Not, like,  _ sick  _ sick, but a little tummy troubles in the morning sometimes,” he answers with a shrug, putting the mug down on the table. “I don’t think I need to rush to see a doctor or summat.” Glenne looks at him pointedly, brow arched, and Harry waves her off. “If it gets worse, I’ll go. I promise, Mum.” He puts his hand to his heart as a pledge.

Glenne laughs, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I’ve got my eye on you, Styles,” she says with a wink. “Don’t think I won’t force you to go.”

Harry smiles as he stands up, tightening the tie on his light pink apron before making his way back to the stove. “I know you will,” he tells her, and a pleasant feeling bubbles within, glad he has a friend that cares about him so much. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Glenne replies with a grin, tossing him a rag from across the room to clean up the mess left from the spoon. “I’m gonna go write today’s signs, but I’ll be back to take out the cinnamon rolls, just in case you can’t handle the smell.”

He smiles gratefully, and she’s gone in a flash, leaving Harry alone in the back to finish up the pie of the day.

After taking a few minutes to scrub the splashes of blueberry off the oven, he goes right back into baking.

That’s his happiest place – he loves getting lost in the world of sugar and sweet when he creates a new pie for his bakery. He prides himself on having a different flavor every single day, making his customers happy, and always doing everything with love.

When he was growing up, he found his love of baking by helping his mum in the kitchen. He doesn’t think he’s as good a baker as she is, even though she insists he’s better ( _ she’s my mum, she has to say that _ , he reasons), but he does think he’s pretty damn good if his satisfied customers are anything to go by. He loves creating new flavors, even though he makes sure to always have everyone’s classic favorites on hand. He’s always experimenting with new ideas, enlisting his friends who have now become pie connoisseurs, ready to tell him what to make again and what he should trash. All of his pies are topped with different heart designs, his signature style to let people know it was baked with love.

Harry opened his shop – called Sweetie Pie – four years ago when he was 24. There’ve been highs and lows, but mostly highs, he thinks, and when he leaves work every day, turning off the twinkling fairy lights that adorn the whole place, he can’t still can’t believe it’s all really his. He works with some of his best friends in the world who help him bake and decorate and man the counter, and he really couldn’t be happier. He loves his customers, he loves his work, he loves his creative freedom, and he loves being his own boss.

That’s why he isn’t about to let a little bit of sickness get him down – especially not when he has a whole day of things to do lying ahead of him. As he stirs his blueberries, he whistles a happy tune knowing the rest of the day will be much better than his rough start.

*

Two days later, the third consecutive day Harry finds himself in the bathroom with his head in the toilet, it’s Sarah that comes to his rescue. Yesterday, it was the peach glaze that did him in, and today it was the strong smell of cocoa when he tried to mix a filling for his chocolate raspberry pie. He groans as he lets himself plop down on the floor, rubbing a hand over his stomach even though it’s not helping at all. He still feels sick, just wanting to go home and curl up in his bed instead of going back to work – and it’s so unlike him that he feels a little worried.

There’s a faint knock that jostles the door just a bit, followed by a soft, “H?”

“Come in,” Harry mumbles, and Sarah pushes the door all the way open, a concerned look on her face as even her usually high ponytail seems to droop in worry.

“Oh, love,” she says softly, a sympathetic smile on her face. Harry’s about to try to steady himself and stand up when she sits down right next to him, gently putting an arm around his shoulder. He sinks into her without much thought. “Are you okay?”

He shakes his head against her neck with a sigh as he keeps one hand braced across his stomach. She runs her fingers through his hair softly, and Harry couldn’t be more thankful to have the friends he does. “I don’t know?”

“I think you should go to the doctor,” Sarah tells him, hand stilling in his hair. “Glenne was about ready to make you an appointment yesterday if you didn’t do it yourself. I think you just need to make sure everything’s in order, yeah? Might be nothing, but it’s better to know.”

“I know,” he moans, closing his eyes and still not lifting his head from her shoulder. She starts petting through his hair again, and he feels so relaxed he swears he could almost start purring.“It’s just in the mornings, though, and it’ll taper off by evening. Maybe that’s a thing. Maybe I’ve got a morning bug.”

“Or morning  _ sickness _ ,” Sarah amends, joking, but Harry’s eyes snap open.  _ No _ . “Sure you don’t have your own little bun in the oven?” She giggles, but Harry’s too busy calculating to laugh.

Suddenly, his one reckless night out from...six, seven,  _ eight  _ weeks ago rushes to his brain, and he’s replaying it in his head like an old home movie, desperately trying to remember every detail. He remembers the man – tall with dark scruff and curly hair – but things after that get hazy. 

“Harry?”

He can feel his heart pounding in his ears.

Sarah nudges him gently. “Um, your silence tells me there could be?”

He remembers sleeping with the man, of course he does, but he can’t remember the details, can’t remember if they’d even used a condom, and  _ fuck _ . He can’t remember any of the important things, and he’s an idiot and – 

He clears his throat.

“Uh, yeah, there could be.”

He’s wanted kids for as long as he can remember – every time he serves a little customer, he imagines teaching his kids to bake just like he did with his mum, but this isn’t how he planned it. He wanted to be married and have kids with his loving husband a few more years in the future, and god, he’s gone and fucked it all up.

It’s not that he doesn’t want this baby because  _ of course  _ he does, and even just the thought that he could be pregnant has his hand migrating down to his belly, ready to protect his baby,  _ his baby, _ but it’s just – he didn’t think this was how it was going to go.

“You alright, H?” Sarah asks softly, and Harry lifts his head from her shoulder, nodding dazedly. “Do you wanna pop out and grab a test?” He takes in a breath. Maybe he isn’t actually pregnant. Maybe he’s just got a bit of a bug. But he definitely could be. He should take a test today. Or he could wait. Maybe he’s just sick and this will all go away. Maybe the test would be a waste of money. His mind is racing, and he can’t quite formulate a response as quickly as he’d like. Sarah must notice his hesitation because she cuts through the fog of his brain suggesting, “Maybe Glenne can get you one before she gets to work today? I can text her and ask for you.”

“Thank you,” Harry answers gratefully, pulling Sarah into a big hug. “Yeah, please.”

Sarah smiles at him as she stands up and reaches out her hand to help him up. “We’ve always got your back. You know that.”

*

Glenne and Sarah stand outside the door while he pees on the pregnancy test, and he supposes it should feel weirder than it does, two of his best friends anxiously waiting outside the bathroom door, but he’s so nervous he doesn’t mind the company. “How long do you have to wait?” Glenne asks, and after Harry washes his hands, he gently nudges the door open with the toe of his boot, picking up the box the test came in.

“Five minutes,” he answers, reading the back, and his stomach is in knots. Even though he doesn’t know for certain that he’s pregnant, he’s had about an hour to let the thought simmer, and he’s starting to believe he can do this. Whether or not he really can doesn’t matter right now – a can-do attitude will make everything better.

“I’ll set the timer on my phone,” Sarah tells him, pulling it out from the pocket of her apron.“You doing alright?”

“Yeah,” he tells them with a nod, “as alright as I can be, I guess?” He laughs nervously as he taps his fingers on his thighs. “I’ve always wanted kids, y’know, and this might not be, like, how I wanted it to happen, but it’s still a baby who I’m gonna love.” He feels himself smile as he says it, and he figures that’s a good sign. He watches Glenne and Sarah share a grin between the two of them before turning to look at him again.

“I think you’ll be a great dad,” Glenne says with a nod. When he looks at her, she’s got tears in her eyes, and Harry can’t even pinpoint why she does, but he feels his own eyes flooding, always starting to cry when one of his friends does. “Sorry, sorry.” She wipes her tears, careful not to smudge her mascara, and laughs slightly. “You’re a sympathy crier, I know.”

Harry giggles, blinking back tears and throwing one arm around Glenne and the other around Sarah. “Thank you for being here.”

The three of them stand in their huddle until a sequence of melodic  _ pings _ come from Sarah’s phone. “Ready?” Her voice is barely above a whisper like she’s scared to ask.

He takes in a deep breath, but he can’t bring himself to look just yet. He’s staring at a spot on the floor and can feel his friends’ eyes on him, waiting, wondering. His entire life could change in one second.

“Do you want me to look?” Glenne murmurs after a few seconds of agonizing silence, rubbing her hand down his back.

He shakes his head, straightening himself up and finally letting go of the two of them. “No, I need to be the one to do it.”

He doesn’t know what he wants the test to say. He doesn’t know if he’ll be relieved if he’s not or if he’ll be sad over a loss that’s not even real. He sighs to himself because he knows regardless of that, he can’t change what the result of the test will be.

Harry looks down at the test lying on the lip of the sink, stomach churning.

_ Pregnant. _

*

Harry’s nervous as he sits on the table waiting for the doctor to come in. He went to his primary care doctor who confirmed he is indeed pregnant and referred him to the specialist he’s about to see. He’s been anxious leading up to this, and he really isn’t sure why since he’s come to terms with the fact that he’s having a baby, but he also guesses something as life changing as a baby will ramp up your anxiety tenfold.

He woke up far too early this morning, long before he needed to get up for his appointment, so he decided to use that time to be productive and bake a pie to calm his nerves. It worked, and he does feel marginally calmer, but he has no idea if it was a silly idea to bring the pie with him to give to the doctor. He feels like a bit of an idiot with a perfectly baked pie with hearts carved into the crust sitting in his lap while he waits for the start of his appointment, but he didn’t know what else to do with this pie other than just...bring it with him. He supposes it’ll make quite the first impression, anyway, because he assumes not every patient is showing up for their appointment with a freshly baked pie. He hopes the doctor likes berries.

He lets out a long breath as he tries to calm the rest of the nerves that haven’t quite gone away yet. He looks at his chipping yellow nails, thinking about how he needs to go for another manicure. He picks at the hem of his t-shirt, forcing himself to stop so the thread won’t run. He glances around the room to try to get any kind of idea about what the doctor is going to be like and comes up short. He ends up staring at the pregnancy posters on the walls – diagrams and information that all seem so foreign to him, like he’s so out of his depth. But this is his new world now – things he’ll need to learn about. 

His thoughts are interrupted when the door opens and the doctor walks in. He’s younger than Harry expected – that’s the very first thing he notices – with dark hair and long lashes that fan out over his cheeks as he looks down at his chart. He isn’t dressed like a doctor, either. Instead of a lab coat, he’s in black trousers and a paisley button-down similar to one that Harry has in his own closet. The only real clue that he’s the doctor is the stethoscope around his neck. He gives Harry a grin as he looks up – there’s a cute gap between his two front teeth – and says cheerily, “’Ello there, ‘Arry Styles, is it?”

Harry nods, holding his hand out and being careful not to jostle the pie. “The one and only.”

“I’m Dr. Nick Grimshaw. Lovely to meet you.”

“Lovely to meet you, too,” he answers with a smile. 

Dr. Grimshaw’s eyes flit to the pie, and Harry notices the faint trace of confusion that quickly overtakes his face. “Taking bun in the oven to a whole new level, huh?” he asks, smile threatening to break through the confused look.

Harry laughs loudly with a shake of his head. “Guilty,” he answers, and Dr. Grimshaw smiles back at him. “But no, it’s for you. I own a bakery, so sometimes I just...” He shrugs one shoulder like it’ll explain everything. “...do this.” He holds it out toward him, trying to assure himself this isn’t one of the weirdest things he’s ever done. He supposes it’s probably up there with the time he brought a carrot cake to a concert, but still, he likes baking and being nice to people. 

“For me?” His eyebrow raises in a way that looks almost cartoonish as Harry nods. “It’s just a normal pie, right? You’re not trying to poison me or anything, are you? Because this looks delicious.”

“Guilty again,” Harry says dryly, and Dr. Grimshaw laughs after a beat. “No poison to be found. Just berries, which I hope you like?”

“I do,” he says as he takes the pie from Harry’s hands and inspects it a bit. Harry hears him give a satisfied little hum under his breath as he puts it down next to his computer. “It’s absolutely gorgeous. The detail in this is insane.” 

“Thank you.”

“Everyone’s gonna go fucking bananas for it in the break room. Oh, unprofessional.” He puts a hand over his mouth endearingly.

“Might surprise you, but I have heard the word fuck before,” Harry answers, smirking.

“Cheeky. Dunno if you’ve met Fiona working the front desk, but if she sees it I doubt I’ll even get a piece. Thank you, Mr. Styles.”

“Please call me Harry.”

“Well, thank you, Harry.” Harry catches him smiling down at it before he places it next to his laptop. He breaks a tiny piece of golden crust off the edge of the tin, popping it in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “This just made my day. Delicious, by the way. Not that I’ve had the full pie experience, but if the crust is bad then there’s really no hope for the rest of the pie, is there?” 

Harry laughs, shrugging one shoulder. “Can’t argue there. It’s the cornerstone of every pie.”

“Anyway, day’s been shit otherwise. Had a patient absolutely lose her mind on me earlier today. Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this since this is your first impression of me. Barely known me five minutes and here I am telling you my life story. You’ll think I’m a wanker.”

Harry smiles, and he can feel his nerves melting away completely. He’s glad Dr. Grimshaw is so funny and easy to talk to because that’ll make all of this much more comfortable for him. And he’s  _ cute _ , but he chooses to ignore that one for now. “You’re fine. We all have nightmare days at work that we need to bitch about. I work with my two best friends, so that can be a little much at times, living in each other’s pockets like that.”

“I’m glad you understand me,” the doctor tells him with another smile, looking up from his laptop screen. “Either that or you put some sort of truth serum in the pie. That technically isn’t classed as poison, so...did you?”

“Ooh, it was tempting, but I actually chose to leave it out of this particular pie. Now that you’ve put the idea in my head, I can’t say it won’t show up in the next one I make for you, so beware.”

“Oh, so there’ll be others to look forward to?”

Harry shrugs, choosing to play coy. “I like baking things.”

Dr. Grimshaw smiles at him, focusing his attention on his laptop again. “That means you’re already my favorite patient.” Harry feels butterflies in his stomach, and he tries to hide his smile. “Okay, so! Getting down to business, you’re eight weeks along?”

He nods as he smoothes a hand over his shirt. “Yeah, around there, I think. That’s what my doctor and I figured out before I came here.”

“Right at the exciting stage where the baby starts to look a little more like a human form rather than some weird little alien. Though I’m sure you’d love it even as a weird little alien.”

Dr. Grimshaw looks over at him with a smile, and Harry laughs. “As long as it’s not an actual alien, I’m fine with whatever they look like. I’d rather they not be green, though.”

“Duly noted. So, because I have to ask, is the other father involved?”

Harry shakes his head, instinctively putting his hand on his stomach like it’ll help protect the baby. “No.”

Dr. Grimshaw nods, typing quickly. “Unpleasantness hopefully over,” he says softly, and Harry can’t help but smile as he nods.

Dr. Grimshaw gets right to it then, asking Harry question after question and apologizing every so often for how boring it is to go through the catalogue of his medical history. He goes over everything with a fine-tooth comb, and Harry tries to stay present as he digests it all. Dr. Grimshaw explains that they don’t do much else this appointment other than check all his vital signs and do a quick blood test to make sure he really is pregnant and that all the more fun stuff like seeing the baby and hearing the heartbeat won’t be done until his next appointment at twelve weeks. Harry’s a little disappointed when he finds out he won’t be seeing his baby today, but he’s excited that he has something to look forward to.

After double-checking a few dates and feeling around Harry’s belly, the doctor heads back over to his laptop to type in a few things, then looks back up at Harry. “Well, this puts your estimated due date around November 28th! A little pre-Chrissy miracle for you! How lovely!”

Harry smiles at the thought of already having a one month old at Christmas this year. His head is spinning as he thinks about it, how quickly his entire world has changed, but the thought of waking up on Christmas morning with a baby wrapped in a soft red onesie makes his heart melt. “Wow, yeah.” He nods, at a loss for words. “Yeah.”

They share grins for a moment before Dr. Grimshaw forces himself to break eye contact, something Harry doesn’t miss, as he checks his notes again. He starts to say his goodbyes and lets Harry know a nurse will be in to draw his blood soon when he suddenly snaps his fingers. “Oh! There’s a bunch of stuff you can’t eat, but I’m assuming you kind of knew that already?”

Harry waves his hand slightly. “I guess? I gotta know what to avoid since my job is working with food, obviously.”

“Right, right. Extra important for you then so you can still craft the perfect bakery menu! Well, sushi, alcohol, caffeine, soft cheese, and a bunch of other things. I wouldn’t reckon you’re working with sushi or soft cheese on the daily in your bakery, but also, I don’t know what kind of business you run exactly, so.” 

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “Brie tarts sometimes, actually, but we can cut those out of the menu.”

Dr. Grimshaw pushes his lips into a pout, and Harry once again has to confront the fact that he’s  _ cute _ . “A brie tart sounds proper delicious, though, so if you’re ever feeling like making something you can’t eat...” He trails off and looks at Harry expectantly. “And banana cream pie is just my all-time favorite, if you’re taking notes.”

“Provided you take care of me and my baby well, there could be more treats in your future,” he says, winking, and did he just wink at his doctor? Did his doctor really walk in making jokes about his coworkers to a patient he’s meeting for the first time? Did he really show up with a pie? He guesses there are a lot of questions with answers that don’t exactly make sense.

“Challenge accepted because my care is  _ excellent _ . Best in London, but I’m sure you knew that, and that’s why you’re here.” Harry can’t hide his smile, and Nick just points at him playfully like he’s been called out. “But anyway, I’ll print you out a list of no-no’s if you want it. There’s a lot, so some people like a more visual reminder, especially since there are a bunch of conflicting opinions on the internet. Y’know, armchair doctors and all that.”

Harry nods. “Sure, that’d be great.”

“And I’ll give you my mobile number in case you ever need to reach me outside of my office hours.” Harry nods again, a bit surprised by that, but he doesn’t say anything. “That way you’ve always got me if you need me for anything.”

“Thank you,” Harry tells him gratefully, “I really do appreciate you being so lovely. I’m a bit nervous with all of this, so it’s nice knowing I have someone like you on my side.”

Dr. Grimshaw smiles earnestly as he scribbles down his number on a hot pink Post-It note, handing it to Harry. “Hopefully I can help ease some of those fears if at all possible. And please don’t feel weird about texting if you need to – I know pregnancy is a strange and scary thing where google can’t always calm you down, so I get it. And I’ll see you in a month anyway, so it isn’t too far away. Any other questions for me before I send in Annie to get your blood?”

He mulls it over for a second, head still swimming with the way his life is about to change, with everything he has to take in now, with the fact that he has a crush on his doctor. He shakes his head. “Think I’m good for now, but I can’t guarantee you won’t get fourteen texts later about something completely stupid that I forgot about because it would seem that pregnancy brain is very real, so consider yourself warned.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

*

Harry leaves his appointment in a bit of a daze, wondering if he really did just spend a decent portion of his first prenatal appointment flirting with his doctor. Surely he’s just imagining things. He’s  _ pregnant.  _ Of  _ course  _ Dr. Grimshaw isn’t trying to get involved with someone who’s about to have a baby.

He explains it all to the eagerly listening Glenne and Sarah, and they tell him to give himself more credit. And it’s not that he doesn’t consider himself reasonably attractive and a pretty good flirt, but it’s just the fact that there’s a baby involved that complicates things. Sarah argues that Dr. Grimshaw is clearly used to babies since he works with pregnant people on a daily basis, but Harry isn’t so sure. As the conversation goes on, both of them deem him ‘hot doctor’ without having ever seen his face, but Harry can’t say he disagrees. He does think maybe the two of them watch too much  _ Fleabag _ , though. 

Sarah sends him a text a few nights later declaring she’s found Dr. Grimshaw’s private instagram account. Harry almost clicks the link, but he decides that’s  _ too  _ weird and instead just tells her she’s acting a tad bit crazy, but he appreciates her anyway, and she replies with a string of emojis with their tongues sticking out. He doesn’t come up after that, and Harry’s more than fine with it. He’s only met him one time – maybe that’s what he’s like with all his patients.

Two weeks later, Harry almost faints at work, dizziness completely overtaking him, and he decides it might be time to utilize Dr. Grimshaw’s mobile number. His morning sickness has been bad; he’s been vomiting almost every day before heading into work and feeling nauseous while he bakes up treats every morning, but it’s _ mostly  _ manageable. Having Glenne rush him to a chair and grab him a glass of water so he’d stop feeling so lightheaded is a new one, though.

He’s home now, relaxing on the couch with a bowl of soup for dinner and feeling much better than he did earlier. Still, he doesn’t want to risk something being wrong and ignoring it, so he spends the next ten minutes typing and retyping the exact same message until he finally feels okay enough with it to press send.

_ Hi Dr. Grimshaw _ ,  _ it’s Harry Styles. Sorry to bother you after your work hours, but I was tied up with my own work today and didn’t have a minute to spare. I got extremely lightheaded at work today to the point where I almost fainted, and I was just wondering if this is normal in early pregnancy. I guess I’m a nervous wreck about these things and wanted to make sure it doesn’t mean anything is wrong. Thank you so much. Sorry again to bother you. _

He puts his phone down on the arm of the sofa and goes back to watching telly while he waits for a response. He doesn’t expect it to be quite so quick, surprised when his phone goes off barely two minutes later.

_ Eveninggggg Harry! Sorry to hear you had a rough day today. Dizziness is normal, unfortunately. For as small as your baby is, they sure can cause a lot of trouble, can’t they? If it persists, just make sure you can take a few moments to yourself to breathe and get yourself sorted so you don’t actually faint and hurt yourself. Drink lots of water. Can you hang in there until your appointment in a couple weeks, or do you need to come in sooner? _

Harry smiles to himself as he reads the response, wondering why he was so worried about sounding professional when Dr. Grimshaw had been so candid and funny and  _ flirty _ during his first appointment. He relaxes, not feeling as bad about bothering him as he types out another reply.

_ I’m glad to hear it’s normal. I worry about just about everything. Thankfully, I’m only working super hard in the mornings when I come in to bake all the pies and pastries at the bakery. As the day goes on, my load lightens when I’m just working on the counter or making a few things here or there. My morning sickness has been pretty bad, but it isn’t anything I can’t handle. It usually calms down midmorning, and then I’m fine for the rest of the day. I can make it until my next appointment, I think. Unless my child tries to prove they’re a demon spawn and makes everything worse (which I’m hoping they will not do). _

_ It’s normal for first-time parents to worry about everything, so you’re not alone there! Maybe take it easy?? Have your friends bake some things if that can be done?? I don’t know how bakeries work, but I’m assuming it’s not just you who makes all the treats! If your morning sickness gets to where you can’t handle it anymore, please let me know! We can figure something out to get you some relief if you need it :) _

Harry smiles, happy to know that he has a doctor that really does care about him and wants to make sure he’s doing okay. He can’t have Sarah and Glenne take over just yet. It’s  _ his  _ bakery. He’ll worry about that later, though.

_ Glad I’m not the only worrier then, either. My mates will have to pick up more of the slack when I’m further along, so I’d rather not make them start quite yet, but I’ll keep your advice in mind and maybe get them there bit by bit. Hopefully my morning sickness will taper off. Thanks for being so lovely and giving me some peace of mind. I really appreciate it, Dr. Grimshaw. :) _

_ Any time! Here’s hoping you feel better tomorrow! If not, you know where to reach me! Have a good night, Harry! :) _

He’s smiling at his phone like an idiot once their exchange is over, and he’s sure that’s not normal to do after you’ve spoken to your doctor.

He shakes it off. 

It’s ridiculous.

*

It doesn’t feel so ridiculous when Harry’s at work the next morning and his phone buzzes with a text from none other than Dr. Grimshaw.

He’s happy to take a break from chopping apples for today’s pies, but focusing on his work is the only thing that’s keeping his mind off his nausea. He hasn’t vomited this morning, which he considers a win, and he’s scared that if he stops chopping, his distraction will go away, and he’ll end up with his head in the toilet. Harry chops up a few more pieces before his curiosity takes over, and he opens the text, morning sickness be damned.

_ Morning, Star Baker!  _ it reads, and the nickname alone makes Harry grin.  _ Just wanted to check in with you today and make sure you haven’t had any dizzy spells and that your morning sickness isn’t too unbearable! Give me an update when you can and reminder!! I’m a big fan of banana cream but also chocolate if you wanted to bring me something to your next appointment ;) just kidding! Or am I? (I’m kidding) _

He chuckles to himself as he reads it, amused by Nick’s pie request. He’s having a casual chat with his doctor, apparently. It feels a little weird. But also, his entire first appointment felt weird. Not even in a bad way, he thinks, just that he’s never had _chemistry_ with a doctor before. He doesn’t think it’s a bad thing to have a friendly rapport with a doctor, but he just...isn’t used to it. But doctors are people, too – people who are very capable of flirting if Nick is anything to go by – and he tries to keep that in mind.

_ Good morning, Dr. Grimshaw,  _ he types out,  _ Still very nauseous, but I haven’t actually vomited at all today, which hasn’t happened in several days now, so hopefully that will continue. I appreciate you checking in with me. Today is apple day, not chocolate or banana day, but maybe before my next appointment, I can figure something out for you. I guess we’ll just have to see. Hopefully I won’t have to text again to tell you how awful I feel and instead can just tell you our pie of the day. ;) _

He sends the text and puts his phone down next to him, going back to chopping apples. He notices himself keeping a close eye on the screen, though, waiting for it to light up with another message from Dr. Grimshaw. And how fucking stupid is that – waiting for a text from his doctor like he’s a schoolboy with a crush. Maybe he really is, though, thinking back to how cute he thought Dr. Grimshaw was at his first appointment.

He’s lost in his head as he gets back into a rhythm of chopping again, no longer looking at his phone every few seconds, when Glenne comes in exactly as his phone goes off. “Morning, sunshine!” she greets him with a smile, and she glances down at the table. “Who ya textin’?”

“Oh, it’s – ” He puts down the knife to grab his phone, but it’s already in her hand as she looks at his recent notifications. 

“Hot doctor?” she asks in excitement, hair nearly whipping him in the face. “It  _ is _ hot doctor! What are you talking about? More flirting?”

Harry grabs the phone from her hand with a shake of his head. “We’re talking about my vomiting habits, Glenne. Not exactly the right time to flirt. Besides, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m pregnant. I doubt he’s looking for that.”

She frowns, shaking her head as she grabs her apron off its hook and quickly ties it around her waist, starting to put the sliced apples in a pan to make the filling for today’s pies. “Well, when do you see him next?”

“Two weeks.” Harry finally looks at his phone, anxious to see what Dr. Grimshaw has to say.

_ I do love a good apple pie from time to time. Really all sweets are absolutely ace, and I’ve never met a pie I didn’t like so you are welcome to text me your daily pie flavors ;) Will look forward to that! Glad to hear you haven’t vomited today! Here’s hoping this is the start of several vomit-less days! _

“That’s the biggest grin I’ve ever seen,” Glenne tells him, sprinkling cinnamon on the apples. He tries to wipe the smile off his face to no avail. “I think you’re talking about a little more than your vomiting habits, honey.” 

“I’m not talking about this right now. Or ever.” He shoves his phone into the pocket of his trousers, shaking his head. He can feel a blush creeping onto his cheeks. He hopes she ignores it. “He was just giving me some medical advice.”

“Mm,” she hums, “last time my doctor and I spoke, we also had a hell of a laugh.” Harry rolls his eyes at her, swallowing his laughter so she doesn’t get the satisfaction. “It’s nice that you’ve found a new...” She hesitates with a smile on her face before continuing in a way that reminds him of his mother when she knew he had a crush. “Friend.”

“Y’know I’m your boss, right? I can just fire you for talking shit, Glenne. It’s that simple.” 

“You wouldn’t, though,” she counters with a pleased grin, pinching his cheek before turning on the stove.

Harry rolls his eyes even though he knows it’s true, and there isn’t any bite behind his bark. “You’re lucky I love you.”

*

That’s how it all begins – the blurred lines between doctor and patient.

Harry goes back and forth the next day, trying to decide whether or not it’s okay for him to text Dr. Grimshaw what kinds of pie they have today. He knows he told him to, but he also wonders if it was just a bit of banter, not any kind of serious request, and he doesn’t want to look like an absolute idiot if it turns out he doesn’t actually care and instead is just placating him. 

He overthinks it the entire time he’s baking cupcakes, while he’s frosting them, and while he’s adding the rainbow sprinkles on top. He finally decides to just go for it – if he doesn’t answer, it isn’t the end of the world.

_ Not sure if you were actually serious about wanting to know our pie flavors, but on the off chance you were, today we have peach and raspberry-peach ;) _

_ Have a feeling you’re just trying to rub it in now, Star Baker!! I was serious though! Would love to pop by sometime! _

And after that day, after Harry’s original hesitation, it all falls into place.

They text every single day after that, Harry telling him what pies they have and sometimes having short conversations after that where Dr. Grimshaw checks in to see how Harry’s handling pregnancy and fills him in on what’s going on in the office. He doesn’t know what to make of this, if it’s harmless and Dr. Grimshaw is just naturally chatty or if it means something more. 

If Harry forgets to text him, Dr. Grimshaw will text midmorning to eagerly ask what he’s baking that day. The answer is never banana cream pie like he’s looking for, and Harry really does want to make him one at some point, but there’s something about the chase that’s so exciting, that gives him butterflies in his stomach every time they talk.

And he doesn’t want it to end just yet.

*

Harry’s nervous as he heads to his twelve-week appointment today, and he can’t place why. Maybe it’s something to do with the fact that his appointment is before the doctor’s office even  _ opens _ , so it’ll be just him and Dr. Grimshaw. Maybe it’s the fact that they’ve been shamelessly flirting via text for the last two weeks.  _ Maybe.  _ Besides, he’s nauseous enough from being pregnant that he doesn’t need a nervous stomach ache right along with it.

He’s stopping in before work today since the past few days he’s been finishing up at the bakery late, long after the office is closed. Dr. Grimshaw has tried to advise him against it in their daily texts, saying he should take it easier now that he’s pregnant, but he isn’t ready to do that quite yet. Not when he’s barely three months – that’ll come when he’s further along, bigger, and ready to throw in the towel. The bakery’s business will let up soon, anyway, always a start of summer lull, and he’ll have more time to himself like usual.

His morning sickness has been pretty bad, though, and his stomach feels like he’s just been on the tilt-a-whirl for a few hours straight, but he attempts to swallow the feeling as he reaches for the door. Dr. Grimshaw’s sitting in the waiting room absently flipping through a magazine and looks up when he hears the door open. “Hi,” Harry says with a smile and a wave as he walks in, shoving his car keys into his pocket. He tucks his sunglasses over his white t-shirt, partially hidden by his pale yellow striped cardigan.

“No pie for me today, Star Baker?” Dr. Grimshaw asks in lieu of a greeting, a smile on his lips. He’s in a soft oversized sweater today, black and orange stripes, and he looks so warm and huggable that Harry has to make himself stop thinking those thoughts, like a mental dousing in cold water.

Harry can feel his cheeks flush, but he shakes his head and grins in return. “Not today,” he answers, leaving out the fact that he’s forgone his usual baking before his appointments routine not only because it’s too early, but because he’s sure the smell of any food would immediately send him running to the toilet to vomit. “Next time, though.” He holds his hand to his chest, red nails on display. “Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he says, tossing the magazine aside as he gets up. He motions toward the door that leads to the examining rooms. “Even though I’m starting to believe you don’t even make banana cream pies.” 

“Heeeey!” Harry stops in his tracks, gently swatting at the doctor’s arm. “I absolutely do make banana cream pies. This is just appointment  _ two _ , and I haven’t yet seen all the excellent care you promised me. Can’t be giving you my best pie on visit two, can I? What will we work up to then?”

“Okay, fair, fair.” Dr. Grimshaw smiles at him, and his stomach flips in a way that he certainly can’t blame on his morning sickness. “I have to earn it. I understand.”

“Anyway, thanks for letting me come in early, Dr. Grimshaw,” Harry tells him, and before he can even finish his thought, he’s being interrupted.

“Oh, please, call me Nick,” he says, opening the door for him as they head to the back. “I reckon we’ve moved past formalities after our texts, hm?”

And he’s right. He’s not sure if calling him by his first name makes it more or less weird, considering now he doesn’t have to think about the fact that he’s flirting with his  _ doctor _ like this, but instead has to confront the fact that he likely doesn’t tell other patients to call him by his first name. “Well, thank you,  _ Nick _ ,” Harry replies, putting extra emphasis on his name. He shrugs with a smile, leading him down a hallway. “I’ve had to stay late to finish up pie and cake orders the past few days. Should let up soon enough, though, but for the minute things are kinda crazy.”

Nick’s lips downturn slightly, but the look passes quickly. “Don’t overwork yourself,” he advises, voice soft and sincere as he pats Harry’s shoulder. “I know you’re thinking about how you need to get this all done before the baby gets here, but you have to think of yourself, too.”

Harry nods, not sure exactly what to say in response, but appreciative that Nick’s looking out for him. He wonders if  _ that’s  _ something he says to all his patients but shakes the thought, figuring this must be a standard even if the rest isn’t. He is a bloody doctor, after all. “Do I get to see bub today?” Harry asks, and he smiles when Nick nods. “Will it look like a baby or a blob?”

“Eh, mostly blob with a hint of baby,” Nick replies as he guides Harry into an exam room, fingers ghosting over the small of his back, and it takes all of Harry’s willpower not to lean backwards into the touch. “But it’ll be the most damn beautiful blob you’ve ever seen because it’s  _ your _ blob. Or so I’ve been told.”

Harry giggles as he gets up onto the examining table, and Nick grabs his laptop from the counter and turns it on. “Well, I’m very excited to see my little blob.” 

“I’ve just gotta load up your charts,” he explains. “It’s so early the system isn’t up and running yet.”

Harry’s again forced to realize how Nick obviously doesn’t do this for everyone, how this is a special occurrence that goes above and beyond what Nick’s normally expected to do. “Oh, yeah, no problem. Sorry about –”

“Don’t apologize,” he cuts in with a smile, looking at him over the top of his laptop screen. The blue light illuminates his face, giving him a pale glow. “I offered. So that’s on me making myself wake up at the arse crack of dawn when I technically didn’t  _ have  _ to.” Harry laughs, attempting to ignore the way his stomach is still churning. “Anyway, how have you been feeling?” 

Harry shrugs, running his hand down his belly like that’ll get the baby to settle down. “I’ve been really nauseous lately.” 

“All day nausea?” Nick’s wearing a sympathetic smile that Harry’s used to just about everyone giving him, having gotten that look many a time from just Sarah and Glenne alone. He used to find it patronizing, but now he knows it’s because they all worry about him and want him to feel better.

“Not always the  _ entire  _ day,” he clarifies, shaking his head, “some days are worse than others, but I’ve pretty much puked every day this week. Other than that, just a little more tired than usual, but I expected that.”

“Sorry the morning sickness is so bad,” Nick tells him, brows knit together, and he sounds achingly sincere. “Hopefully it’ll start to taper off on its own soon, but unfortunately, for a lot of people, that doesn’t happen until the start of the second trimester.”

Harry audibly groans at the thought of being miserable for that much longer. “Dunno if I can make it that long being this nauseous every day.”

Nick smiles. “We’re only putting good energy into the world now, Harold, and it will be gone tomorrow.” He waves his hand around dramatically and snaps his fingers. “See? I’m casting a spell. That’s sure to work.”

Harry laughs with a shake of his head. “Didn’t know you did witchcraft, too.”

“I’m a man of many talents.” He winks.

Harry swallows. “It’s hard to bake in the mornings when you’re so nauseous.”

Nick laughs a bit, but then makes eye contact with Harry over the screen again with a more serious look. “Is that why there wasn’t a pie for me today, Star Baker?”

Harry smiles back at him, shrugging as he nods. “You’ve cracked the code. Maybe you really do know witchcraft.”

Nick pretends to mull it over, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I think that’s a decent enough reason. But really, if your morning sickness doesn’t start to get better, just call in and I can prescribe you something for it.”

“Thank you,” Harry says gratefully. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“We’ll cross our fingers.” He types something in quickly, then looks up at Harry with a smile. “Alright, let’s get you laying back with your shirt pushed up, and I’ll get the sonogram machine all set up so we can see what’s going on in that belly of yours.”

Harry grins as he flips up his shirt to expose his barely there bump. It’s not much yet, just a little pudge that has him fastening his checked trousers with one of his hair ties, but he loves it, and he loves to see that his baby is growing. He just wishes the baby wouldn’t make him so sick – he doesn’t think that’s  _ too  _ much to ask, but he supposes it’s already a sign of how he’ll have to surrender control once the baby’s actually here. “I’m excited,” he tells him, and Nick hums gently as he pulls the machine over closer to Harry, untangling some wires.

“The gel’s gonna be cold,” Nick says, heading over to the cabinet in the corner to pull it out. “You’ll be an old pro at this by the time the baby’s ready to come.”

He heads back over toward Harry starting to uncap the bottle and squirt it onto his hand when a very familiar feeling unfurls in Harry’s stomach.

Nick’s midsentence, explaining what he’s about to do, and suddenly, he can’t comprehend anything at all except for the fact that he can feel the entire contents of his stomach starting to make their way back up. He lurches forward, putting his hand to his mouth and jumping up from the examining table. Harry throws open the door and bolts to the bathroom as quickly as he can, making it just in time to fall to his knees in front of the toilet and empty his stomach. He retches miserably, feeling his eyes water and tears slip down his cheeks. His groan echoes against the bathroom tiles, somehow only emphasizing how terrible he feels. 

Harry only gets a minute of relief before he’s sticking his head back in the toilet, the rest of everything coming up. And  _ of course  _ this had to happen now. Had to happen here. Had to happen in front of Nick. Had to happen right before he actually got to see his baby.

He wants to crawl in a hole and die as he folds his legs up, draping his arms over the tops of his knees and dropping his head down. He wants to make himself as small as possible so he won’t be seen, can just be miserable and nauseous in peace. And he’s sure that Nick has seen many people vomit during their appointments, maybe even right in front of him instead of in the bathroom, but it still doesn’t help his embarrassment.

A few moments later, he hears a gentle knock on the door, followed by a soft, “Harry?”

“Yeah,” he croaks into his arm, grimacing at how rough his voice sounds when he tries to speak. He hears footsteps and tentatively looks up to see Nick walking in, that same close-mouthed sympathetic smile on his face Harry’s used to seeing from everyone. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Nick assures, groaning a bit as he plops down next to Harry on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. He almost tells him he doesn’t have to sit with him, that he wants to be left alone, but he decides against it in the hope that his company will make this more bearable. “Too old to be down here. My back doesn’t work like it used to.” He chuckles to himself, and Harry smiles into his arm. “I’ve seen patients vomit many times before, though, sometimes multiple times a day. You’re not the first, Star Baker, so don’t go thinking you’re special or something.”

Harry manages a laugh, wiping at his eye and feeling how wet his eyelashes are. He knows without a doubt he must have tear tracks down his face and probably looks like a disaster. He sighs shakily, looking at the ceiling, and Nick reaches over to gently rub his shoulder, a comforting feeling.

“Some don’t even make it to the bathroom and puke right there on the carpet, and I have to pretend I’m not disgusted even though I very clearly am, so I appreciate the Olympic sprint to get here.” When Harry finally looks at him, Nick’s smiling at him. 

Harry lets out a giggle, rubbing his eyes again. “Still feel bad,” he says into his arm, burying his face again. “I feel so shit.”

“Call out of work?” Nick suggests lightly. “Have a proper lie in? One day won’t hurt, will it? Maybe seeing bub will boost morale enough to at least get you feeling well enough to watch shit telly all day instead of wanting to die.”

He smiles to himself at the thought of seeing his blob-like baby on the grainy screen, but he’s quick to dispute the fact that he needs a day off. “Yeah, it’s a good idea in theory, but, like, I run the place,” he says like it explains everything, looking over at Nick. 

“You’re the boss, though, so surely you can be the one to decide whether or not you get a sick day. You quite literally call the shots.”

“I mean, I guess, but it’s not like I can just decide not to come in when I’m the one that does most of the baking,  _ and  _ especially not when we’ve had an influx of orders come in lately. I know my friends are more than capable, it‘s not about that, but it’s my place, so I can’t just...do that.”

“Bit of a workaholic, I reckon. I’m sure your friends can handle it for one day, little sickling.”

“Well, the bakery’s my baby until my real one comes along.”

Nick laughs slightly, reaching out to grab Harry’s hand. He doesn’t know why Nick does it, but he doesn’t try to pull away – his touch is comforting, soft and welcoming. “You’re a great baker,” Nick tells him, and that makes Harry sit up a little straighter at the praise. “Literally the best pie I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you,” Harry tells him earnestly, looking at their entwined hands. “I’ve always had a knack for it. It’s come pretty naturally to me even if I feel like I’ve still got a lot to learn.”

Nick strokes his thumb down the back of Harry’s hand, examining it in a way that makes a shiver run down Harry’s spine. He carefully touches each of his rings, the tiny tattoo of a cross, and brushes his finger lightly over Harry’s red nails. He shifts his gaze to make eye contact. “Your hands make beautiful things,” he says, and Harry’s heart jumps. “You can make so much art just with your hands...” He trails off, darting his eyes away.

There’s a silence that falls over them for a few moments, comfortably resting in the air around them, hands still linked together. “One pie caused all these thoughts?” Harry asks, a quiet murmur that feels too loud for how delicate everything feels right now.

Nick still rubs soft circles on the back of Harry’s hand but shakes his head a bit frantically, backtracking, “I mean, like...”

“I was kidding, I get it,” Harry assures with a laugh, and he watches as Nick visibly relaxes, glancing over at him with a close-lipped smile. “Thank you. It’s nice to be seen as an artist.”

“You most definitely are. I’ve never seen anything like the design on the top of your pie, and I’ve sure as hell never  _ tasted  _ anything as wonderful.” He runs his thumb over Harry’s knuckles again, and a shiver runs down his spine. “Soft,” Nick whispers before he lets go, and Harry already mourns the loss of contact, but acts like nothing is wrong.

They’re quiet for a bit longer, just sitting on the bathroom floor while Harry tries to regain enough ambition to stand up again. He’s thankful for the fact that Nick doesn’t try to hurry him along, only glances over at him here or there to give him small, reassuring smiles. Harry takes in a breath, and somehow, Nick must sense he’s feeling a bit better. “Ready to go see bub?” he asks.

“Yeah, let’s try this again. Hopefully with less puking and more of an actual ultrasound. Sorry I’ve been a bit of a mess today.”

Nick laughs and hops up from the floor impressively quickly, holding his hand out to Harry to help him back up. Their hands feel right clasped together, but Harry attempts to ignore the way his heart flutters. “You’re not a mess at all,” Nick tells him, dropping his hand one Harry’s upright again. “You’re beautiful.”

Harry swallows hard, attempting to laugh breezily, but it comes out more like a honk than anything casual. “I’m sure you say that to all your patients, though,” Harry says, looking over at Nick like he’s waiting for a confirmation that this is a completely normal comment.

Nick smiles, and Harry’s heart is in his throat. “I really don’t.”

*

Harry starts to drive to the bakery with his ultrasound photos burning a hole in the passenger’s seat where they’re resting in a large envelope, but Nick’s words echo in his brain. His stomach has started to churn again, and he realizes maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to spend one singular day in bed. And he  _ knows  _ Sarah and Glenne will understand, so he hasn’t really got a reason to feel bad about it. He’s sure the bakery won’t crumble without him there.

Guilty feeling gone, he turns around, making a quick stop at Starbucks for a ginger tea so he’ll have something on his stomach that he doesn’t have to make himself. Even though he’s not feeling well enough for food, he’s hoping the tea will make him feel even the tiniest bit better. 

A sense of relief comes over him when he gets back home, kicking off his loafers and making his way to his room with his tea in one hand, ultrasound in the other. He stares at it for a few moments, grinning at the grainy photo of the baby in his belly before setting it down on his dresser. Harry pats his belly gently, letting his baby know he’s thinking about them. He makes a mental note to get a frame for it when he’s feeling better so he can display it proudly.

He throws on an oversized hoodie and strips down to his pants, sighing in relief as he plops down into bed. His body aches after vomiting and after sitting on the bathroom tiles for so long, and his bed has never felt so comfortable and wonderful. He grabs the remote and flips through the stations, settling on a cooking show as pleasant background noise before reaching for his phone on the nightstand. 

Harry opens the group text with Sarah and Glenne, typing out a quick message that says,  _ Morning sickness is unbearable today, so I’m sorry, but I’m taking the day off. Ultrasound this morning went well, and all is good and healthy with bub. Text if you need anything at all. Kissy. _

He’ll tell them later how Nick called him beautiful, when he can handle the teasing and handle them wanting to know every detail following that moment. He smiles to himself as he thinks of that moment, though, warmth flooding his veins.

Harry’s met with an immediate response from Sarah that’s just 12 of the party hat emoji sent with the ‘confetti effect’ that makes him laugh out loud to the quietness of his flat.  _ Feel better, H!  _ reads the text that follows from Glenne.  _ We love you (and baby!) and can hold down the fort for you today! Rest well love xxx  _

Another text comes in from Sarah,  _ Just to clarify I wasn’t celebrating that you’re sick I was celebrating that you’re finally taking a much needed day off! Sweet dreams Haz xoxo _

He smiles to himself as he sends back a pink heart, about to turn his phone off while he naps when he decides to let Nick know he’s decided to put himself first today. He knows he’ll be pleased since Nick suggested he have a lie-in three more times before he left his office. It’s still funny to call him  _ Nick _ ; the newness hasn’t worn off yet, and he knows the second he tells his friends this, he’ll never hear the end of it. 

He’s about to take a selfie of him lying in bed, but he realizes he doesn’t know what the protocol is when it comes to sending your  _ doctor  _ bedroom selfies, even though he knows he and Nick have already crossed several lines. Deciding not to overthink it, he snaps a quick photo of the covers pulled up to his nose, curls spread out on the pillow like a wild halo.  _ Took a day for myself. Thanks for the extra push to do it. Sorry you had to deal with me puking. I’ll try to do that before I come next time .x _

He lets his thumb hover over the send button for a few agonizing seconds but ultimately decides there’s nothing wrong with what he’s saying, so he presses send while holding his breath. Harry doesn’t want to sit and stare at his phone pathetically, but he knows he can’t turn it off  _ quite  _ yet because he needs to see if Nick responds – and god, when has he ever been this pathetic. He stares at his screen for a few more seconds, and miraculously the three dots pop up almost immediately so he doesn’t have to feel like too much of an idiot for awaiting a response.

_ Told you a proper lie-in would do you good!! Doctor always knows best ;) have a good sleep and rest up for my banana cream pie next time!! xoxo _

*

After spending the morning with his head in the toilet, Harry decides  _ maybe  _ he should call Nick. He took off work this morning because he wasn’t feeling well, and both Glenne and Sarah offered to come over to take care of him if he wanted them to, but he politely declined. He’d been regretting that choice ever since he made it, but he was too stubborn to just text them and let them know he’d love one of them to stop by and dote on him for the day. It’s been at least three hours of nausea and vomiting, and he’s quickly reaching the end of his rope, just looking for something,  _ anything _ to put him out of his misery.

“Please, baby,” he says softly, pleading, hand resting on his belly that’s starting to get rounder. “Give me some relief, yeah, petal?”

There’s predictably no response, but he likes to think that maybe reasoning with the baby is the way to go. Maybe they’ll come out with a good sense of logic that way. But still, he should text Nick.

Harry doesn’t know  _ exactly _ what he’s expecting to gain from texting Nick other than letting his doctor know what’s going on and  _ maybe  _ getting a little bit of sympathy, but he grabs his phone off his nightstand after he collapses into his bed following yet another vomiting spell. He’s sure there’s not much that can be done without going in for an appointment, and he doesn’t want to go to the office today. He just saw Nick two weeks ago for his twelve-week checkup and is due to go in again next week. He doesn’t want an extracurricular visit if he can help it. 

He feels like absolute shit and has slept fitfully, waking up incredibly nauseous every time, and he hopes Nick can give him tips or something for even a bit of relief. He’s not asking for a miracle – he’d just like to keep some fucking crackers down if possible.

_ Hi Nick,  _ he types,  _ I called in from work today because my child is apparently trying to kill me via morning sickness, so no pie flavour update today. Sorry.  _ He glances at the clock on the screen, seeing it’s a bit past noon now.  _ Or I guess it’s afternoon sickness now, whatever. Just wondering if you have any kind of surefire remedies that could help? Really suffering here today .x _

The last thing he expects is for his phone to start ringing almost immediately after he sends the text. He doesn’t even have a chance to put it down before the screen lights up. He looks at the screen to see that it’s none other than Nick. Confused, he picks up. “Hello?” He grimaces at how scratchy his voice sounds.

“Hi, Star Baker,” he says, and Harry smiles at the nickname, “I’m glad you at least called into work today. One battle won, then.”

Harry chuckles, closing his eyes as they start to talk. “You got me,  _ doctor _ .”

Nick snorts. “You don’t sound too hot.”

“Excuse me, Nicholas. I absolutely am.” Nick gives him what he’s sure is a pity laugh. “Don’t feel it, though,” Harry clarifies, clearing his throat so maybe he’ll sound a bit more human. “Is there anything you can tell me to do to feel less awful, or am I just gonna need to make an appointment? I’m not sure I can make it another few weeks if I’m gonna feel this shitty every day.”

“Well, if you want, I can stop by. I actually had a short day today, and I was just gonna do a big shop and go home and binge shit telly, so I’m more than happy to see you if you’d like.”

Harry’s eyes spring open. “You don’t have to,” he assures, not wanting to be a bother even though he certainly wouldn’t object to being taken care of, “is there anything I can do, like, some kind of home remedy? I don’t need you to go out of your way.” He wonders if Nick has ever offered this to any of his other patients or if it’s only been him.

“It’s really not a big deal, Harry,” Nick assures, and mostly, Harry just doesn’t want Nick to see him looking like shit. He supposes he did throw up in his office, though, so maybe that’s a bit ridiculous of him. “Text me your address, yeah?”

He mulls it over for a second, but he ultimately decides it’s harmless to have Nick stop by. The worst that could happen is that Nick decides that he looks gross in his pajamas, and if that’s the case, then they were never meant to work anyway. “Are you sure?” he asks for good measure. “Really don’t wanna, like, put you out or anything. Especially when you could have a day to yourself.”

“I promise it’s fine. I offered!” Nick replies. “Unless you’re actually a serial killer or summat. Then I’d have to politely decline.”

He giggles. “What a way to find out.”

Nick laughs brightly. “A risk I’m willing to take.” 

*

When Harry’s doorbell rings, he runs a hand through his hair as he gets himself up from bed. He already knows he looks like a mess in his worn joggers and oversized hoodie, hair unbrushed and face unwashed. He can’t bring himself to care, though, especially when he feels weak enough that he doesn’t even want to be upright at the moment. He quickly picks up a scrunchie from his dresser, pulling his hair out of his face and into a tiny ponytail on the top of his head. “Coming,” he yells, as he pads to the door with his stomach still churning. He smoothes a hand over his barely-there baby bump with a sigh, just hoping he doesn’t vomit  _ on  _ Nick. “Ready for this, baby? Please don’t make me throw up all over him.”

Opening the door, he sees Nick holding a few paper bags of groceries, nearly overflowing. The shock on his face must be more apparent than he thinks when Nick starts laughing and says, “hello to you, too!” as he lets himself into Harry’s flat without another word.

“What’s all this?” Harry asks incredulously, and Nick looks around for a moment before locking eyes with Harry as though he’s looking for a place to put things. Harry points to the coffee table in the middle of his living room, still trying to process that not only is Nick making a house call, but he’s come with enough food to stock his pantry.

“Got you a few things,” he says with a shrug, the understatement of the century, as he places them down on the table. He acts like it’s the most natural thing in the world, showing up to a morning sickness ridden patient’s house with enough food to feed a small army. Harry supposes all rules were out the window from that very first day when he showed up with a pie, and maybe that means the blueprint of their relationship was never going to be straightforward. The more they’ve talked, the more Harry’s realized he’s perfect boyfriend material, and he knows that’s not a normal thought to have about his doctor. But Nick isn’t exactly helping that when all of this is so far from normal, from any other doctor he’s ever had. “You asked if there were any home remedies, and I got you every single thing I recommend to parents-to-be that are having bad morning sickness. Or what they’ve told me works. Just call me your Fairy Godmother.” He winks.

Harry can’t help the warmth that runs through his veins, all the way down to his toes as he smiles. His friends are amazing, and he knows Glenne or Sarah would’ve gotten him a care package, but neither of them would’ve gone to these lengths _._ He briefly thinks that they’re going to have a field day with this once they find out what Nick’s done, but he shakes the thought off quickly to stay in the moment. “What’d you get?” He tries to peer into the bags before Nick starts taking items out like he’s doing a grocery haul.

“Ginger ale,” he says, pulling out a two liter bottle. “A classic. Ginger tea, too.” Harry nods in agreement. “Ice lollies. Some have said that really helps them. Some hard boiled sweets. They’re not just for nans, you know.” Harry chuckles. “Sour sweets which I know sounds absolutely mad, but so many people say it works. Saltines. Peppermint tea. Bananas. Lemons. Applesauce.”

Harry watches the growing pile of food on his coffee table, and the feeling of thankfulness he has for Nick is overwhelming. He’s seconds away from tears as Nick smiles at him, acting like there’s nothing special about what he’s done, like it’s nothing extraordinary.

“Noodle soup for when you’re feeling a bit better and like you want to try some sort of actual meal cause I wasn’t sure what you had here. I got peanuts, cashews, and almonds cause I wasn’t sure which you liked, and nuts can help sometimes. So hopefully one of those? You can’t go wrong with a good nut. Cheeky, no?” He looks to Harry for confirmation, and that’s what sets him off.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, and now he can feel the tears welling up in his eyes. The fact that he took all of this into consideration makes Harry’s heart beat faster, a dynamite in his chest. “I like them all, actually. Fair play.” He sniffles slightly, nodding at Nick to go on as he tries to pretend he isn’t completely overwhelmed with emotion.

“Are you crying?” Nick asks as he does a double take, face falling, and Harry immediately feels bad, even though he knows he has no reason to. “Have I done something wrong? I’m sorry if I overstepped or –”

“You’re a doctor,” Harry cuts in through a laugh, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe a stray tear. He smiles at him for a moment. “Aren’t you supposed to know that my hormones are all out of whack? This was just...really kind of you.” He sniffles again, taking in a breath to try to compose himself. “I just wasn’t expecting it and have been feeling sorry for myself all day, and I can’t thank you enough.”

Nick smiles at him, brighter than the sun, with a shake of his head. “Right, yeah, yeah. It’s not a problem, Harry. You said you were having a rough go of this, and I wanted to help. It was the least I could do today.”

He gives Nick a watery grin, and he feels the tears spill over onto his cheeks. He wipes his face with his sleeve again, feeling a bit silly that he’s crying over  _ groceries _ , but rationally, he knows this is so much more than that. He can’t think about the implications that come with this right now because just the thought has all of his nerves on fire – he’ll wait until later to mentally unpack. “This was very lovely of you, that’s all. I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, of course,” Nick answers easily, like he doesn’t have to think, “anytime you need me, I can be there.”

Harry doesn’t know exactly what to say, so he just nods. There’s always been a tangible spark between them, a level of static electricity in the air. It’s an unexplainable  _ click  _ that makes them fit like puzzle pieces, and that feeling has only increased tenfold the longer they’ve known each other. He wonders if Nick feels it, too – if he’s trying his best to ignore it just like Harry is.

“What do you recommend I have first?” Harry asks, trying to get away from crying like an idiot, and Nick looks over the food on the table thoughtfully.

He picks up a few items here or there, glancing at the ingredients before picking up the bag of sour lollies. “I’d reckon probably the sour sweets? Dunno why, but I’ve had  _ so _ many patients that say this shit works wonders. Maybe it scares the baby into behaving in there.” Harry chuckles. “And that way if you just wanna go to sleep, you can have one quick and get right to bed.”

Harry wrinkles his nose a bit, not the biggest fan of anything sour, but at Nick’s recommendation, he’ll try it. He’d try just about anything if it meant he’d stop vomiting for the day. “Sure.”

"Ooh, are we not one for sour?” Nick teases playfully as he opens the bag of candy. “I thought as a baker you’d have a more refined palate. I see I was indeed wrong.”

“Shut up.” Harry smiles as he holds his hand out. “I’m too tired and nauseous for banter today, so you have an unfair advantage.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Nick bites his bottom lip in a pleased grin as he hands Harry the sweet **.** “Here. This one’ll just taste like _blue_.”

Harry puckers the second he puts it in his mouth, and Nick laughs at him fondly, which he knows he deserves. “This better work.”

Nick dutifully crosses his hand over his heart, face deathly solemn. “If it doesn’t, I’ll revoke my title as your Fairy Godmother.”

“Oh, so you’re serious then,” Harry says around the sweet, holding back another pucker. “Wouldn’t want a prestigious title that you gave yourself revoked.”

“So you do have some banter left in you.”

Harry petulantly sticks his tongue out at him. “AH!” Nick points at him enthusiastically. “I see the  _ blue _ is already starting to work. Tongue’s looking quite a garish color.”

He giggles, and there’s the spark that’s getting even harder and harder to ignore. “I’m sure it’s  _ beautiful _ , Nicholas. Here’s hoping  _ blue  _ flavor is the magic fix-all.” Nick crosses his fingers, closing his eyes like he’s making a wish. Harry looks at him for a moment, not really sure what comes next. He’s exhausted, and as much as he’d like to chat to Nick all afternoon, he can practically hear his bed calling his name. “Well, I’m just gonna head to bed, actually, so you can head out if you want. You didn’t even have to stop by, but I really do appreciate it.”

“I can wait a bit,” Nick says nonchalantly, smiling. “Just to make sure you can get back to sleep and this doesn’t make you sicker. I can get you meds if you end up needing them, yeah?”

Harry nods, still not sure exactly how to best express his gratitude. Nick never had to do any of this, yet here he is. Here he is willing to stay  _ even while Harry goes to sleep _ .

“I mean, like, as long as you don’t mind me just chilling here,” Nick quickly adds, “cause I can just go if that’s weird or whatever. Don’t want to creep you out or anything.”

“No, it‘s fine, I promise, and it’s really lovely that you’d even want to stay. You don’t have to stay while I’m asleep, though,” Harry assures, and Nick nods. It’s a strange thought to have Nick sitting alone in his living room without Harry there to entertain him, but it’s not one he minds at all. There’s something domestic about this whole thing that he’s yearned for longer than he’s ever wanted to admit it to himself. He’s thought about it even more with a baby on the way – what it would be like with a husband to wake up to every day, but he never thought it would actually happen. It was just a faraway dream. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure, and I can just text you or summat to let you know how I am. I’m sure it’ll be rather boring without _ me _ to entertain you.”

“Very upset I’ll be missing out on the Harry Styles comedy hour, but I understand why it’s been canceled for the day.” 

Harry sticks his tongue out at Nick again. “Is it all blue now?”

“All blue,” Nick confirms with a smile. “But yeah, if I have to leave, I’ll go, but I can stay for a bit, yeah? Just to make sure you’re alright. I’ve got some work to do that I was gonna put off and now have no excuse to, so if you don’t mind me taking over your couch for a few hours, I’ll be set.” Harry smiles at him, still lost in his thoughts. “You can just kick my arse out if –”

Harry shakes his head. “Couch is all yours for the day.” Nick pulls a stack of papers out of one of the bags, tapping them on the table to straighten them out. Harry lingers in the doorway, feeling like he should say something else but not knowing exactly what. “Um, if you need water or something, I’ve got some in the fridge, so you can help yourself.” Nick nods at him again, staring at him expectantly. “And there’s a leftover pie I brought home from work yesterday, blackberry pear, right on the counter that you’re also welcome to.”

“I mean, if you’re offering, I’ll never say no to free pie. Thank you, Star Baker.”

They look at each other for a beat too long, and Harry feels the air around them get heavy, like it’s too much to take in all at once. He wonders if Nick feels it, too, the cosmic shift. They don’t break eye contact, just keep staring at one another until Harry finally breaks it, shaking his head. “No, thank  _ you _ . Again. You really don’t have to stay.”

He smiles, waving his hand. “It’s nothing, I promise.”

Harry takes one last look at him before heading toward his bedroom. He closes the door behind him and lets out a long sigh, putting his hand on his tiny bump. “Is it crazy to be a bit in love with your doctor, darling?” he asks them like they’re actually listening. “Because I feel like I might be.”

*

Harry wakes up to the late afternoon light streaming into his room. He has no idea how long he’s actually slept, but the first thing he notices is that he doesn’t feel nauseous anymore. He still isn’t exactly  _ hungry,  _ but his stomach has finally stopped churning, and that’s the only thing he could ask for. “Thanks for calming down, little one,” Harry says with a hand on his belly. His conversations with the baby are always one-sided, but he doesn’t mind. They’ll learn in time.

He checks the clock on the nightstand next to him, seeing he slept for a few hours and it’s now nearly half three. He knows Nick had offered to stay while he slept in case he woke up feeling poorly again, but he’s sure he must’ve gone home. He can’t imagine wanting to sit in an  _ acquaintance’s _ flat for almost three hours while they sleep even with work to do. And fine, maybe they’re more than  _ acquaintances, _ he reasons, though he still can’t put a label on what exactly it is they have. Not quite friends –  _ maybe  _ friends? – but far more than doctor and patient. Somewhere in a strange area that doesn’t exactly have a label. Regardless of that, he’s sure Nick is long gone, and he’s sure he left the second he knew Harry was safely asleep despite his pleasantries.

It takes a few moments for Harry to mentally prepare himself to get up, scared that too much movement will make the baby revolt again, but it’s the thought of getting in the shower and putting on clean pajamas that eventually forces him up. With a yawn, he fixes the ponytail on top of his head, and he starts toward the living room, figuring if anything, he should at least have some water before he gets in. 

The last thing he expects to see is Nick sitting on his couch, but there he is. 

_ There he is. _

He’s got glasses nestled on his nose as he reads something on his iPad, not noticing Harry at first.

He stayed.

He _ actually _ stayed. 

That’s far beyond any of Harry’s expectations, and he doesn’t know what to do with this, with this overwhelming fondness he has for Nick. With the way Nick must feel about  _ him _ to sit in his living room for a few hours while all he did was  _ sleep _ .

He wants to cry again at how lovely he is. He swallows heavily, brushing aside his domestic thoughts.

“Hi?” Harry says, voice lilting upward with question and still extra raspy from his earlier sickness. Nick startles at the noise, but once he looks up at Harry, his face morphs into a warm smile. “I thought you’d have gone.”

Nick shrugs, taking his glasses off and hooking them over the front of his jumper. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Still feeling nauseous?”

Harry shakes his head, heading toward the armchair that’s facing the couch and plopping down gracelessly. “No, actually. Not sure if baby decided the sour was sour enough to scare the sickness off or if they decided giving me evening sickness was just a bit too much, but I’m definitely feeling more human. Thank you.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Nick tells him with a smile, putting his iPad down next to him. “It’s the power of artificial blue. Do you want any proper food to eat? I reckon you should at least attempt a meal.”

“Maybe not right now,” Harry replies, heart fluttering at how sweet Nick is being, how doting and caring he’s been from the moment he set foot in Harry’s flat. “I’d try some water, though.” Nick immediately hops up from the couch, heading toward the fridge. Harry tries to hide his grin. “I’ll try to eat something before I actually go to bed for the night. Don’t wanna risk it now.”

“I can make you some soup so you don’t have to stand up? Make sure baby is getting their nutrients?” Nick offers as he hands Harry the bottle of water, and Harry’s known deep down that Nick doesn’t do this for all his patients, but god, it’s so stupidly apparent now that he can’t believe mere hours ago he thought that  _ maybe  _ Nick really just was a doctor who made occasional house calls. He’s really here offering to make him soup just so he can relax. Harry’s analyzing everything to himself, not realizing he hasn’t responded to what Nick said until his voice cuts through his haze. “Right, sorry, you can just tell me to get the fuck out of your hair. Chronic worrier, that’s me.”

“No, no, no, sorry, was just.” He shakes his head, not wanting to admit to him what he’s thinking about. He takes a sip of water to buy himself another moment before trying to put his feelings into words. “You’ve been lovely, I swear, and I’m a chronic worrier, too, so I get it. It’s the baby brain.” Nick stares at him for a moment before he nods. “For a doctor, you seem to forget what happens during pregnancy a lot. I’ll have to give you a shit Yelp review.”

“You wouldn’t dare! Especially when I’d only give your bakery very positive ones. That pie was divine, and I don’t even  _ like  _ pears.” He kisses his fingers and makes an exaggerated  _ mwah _ sound that makes Harry laugh.

“You can take the rest of it home,” Harry says with a shrug. “Not much use to me since I can’t keep anything down.”

“If you’re offering, I certainly won’t say no. Never should’ve struck up a friendship with you. My gorgeous, svelte figure is surely about to take a hit.”

_ Friendship _ . Nick considers them  _ friends _ . He knew that intellectually. He knew that Nick saw him as something far more than just a patient, but still, hearing it out loud affects him in a way he really wasn’t expecting. He lets out a belated laugh, hoping Nick can’t read on his face just how far into his own head he is right now.

“And it’ll be worth it cause I’m an  _ excellent _ baker.”

“I won’t argue. I like that you’re confident in your ability.”

Harry smiles at him, shrugging again. He doesn’t really know what to say, not wanting Nick to feel like he has to stay any longer and not being prepared at all for him to actually still be here. He pulls at one of his hoodie strings for something to do with his hands. ”Um, I’m just gonna hop in the shower, so I mean...” He trails off. He doesn’t want to tell Nick to go – he doesn’t even  _ want  _ Nick to go – but he knows it’s silly for him to stay here when he’s not even going to be in the room.

“Do you want me to go? I’ve surely overstayed my welcome. You didn’t ask for company today.”

“I haven’t minded it, though,” Harry tells him honestly, and he doesn’t miss the slight upturn of Nick’s mouth. “Thank you for everything you’ve done today. You didn’t have to do any of this, but, uh, I’m really glad you did.”

“Anything for you, Star Baker.”

“See you at my next appointment?” he asks, and he’s not sure why he does. Of course Nick will be there.

“See you then,” Nick nods, starting to get his things together.

Harry lingers in the room a moment more before giving Nick a slight wave and heading toward the bathroom. He replays today in his head over and over, still trying to process everything. Still trying to process that Nick considers them friends, that Nick stayed longer than he ever needed to, that Nick apparently isn’t deterred by Harry being pregnant.

It’s a lot to take in.

He leaves the shower with his hair wrapped in a towel, wearing his fluffy lavender dressing gown, and feeling much better than he has all day. Once he exits the bathroom where all he can smell is his sweet scented shampoo and lotion, he realizes it smells like something’s been cooking, and he wanders in his kitchen to see if Nick is still around.

He isn’t, but there’s a piping hot bowl of soup on Harry’s kitchen counter, a pot on the stove, and a note in Nick’s doctor scrawl sitting next to it. He smiles as he reads it, brushing his fingers over the handwriting like Nick left a piece of himself there.

_ Harry – _

_ I’ll finally get out of your hair but please have some soup if you can muster it, yeah? Text if you need anything, you’ve got my number. Hope you’re right as rain tomorrow. _

_ xxx Nick _

_ PS Sorry I went digging to find your pots :P _

_ PPS Thanks for the pie! It’s trés magnifique! _

When Harry falls asleep that night, he dreams that he and Nick are a family. 

*

After that day, everything between them seems to change. They continue to text constantly, and their conversations are quickly becoming a highlight of Harry’s days. Harry starts to feel better, and he wonders if it’s in part due to all the sour sweets he’s been downing lately, becoming completely addicted after eating the ones Nick brought him and nearly cleaning Tesco out of their stock on a weekly basis. Whether or not that’s why he’s on the mend, he blames Nick for his new craving, sending him selfies of all the different colors his tongue turns once he eats the sweets.

By his sixteen week appointment two weeks later, Harry’s feeling back to normal. His bump is rounding out nicely, which he’s absolutely in love with, and he’s constantly resting his hand on it or talking to the baby. Nick even comments on how cute he looks while Harry tries desperately to hide his blush. He brings a chocolate cream pie with him that delights Nick, who goes and grabs a fork from his desk drawer to try it out before the appointment is even over. Nick assures Harry they’re having a slow day, and they sit in the room long after the appointment is over just chatting and eating pie without even cutting it, instead taking forkfuls at a time. Nick surprises him with a gigantic box of sour sweets with a bow on top, enough to last him the rest of his pregnancy –or, realistically, the next month – that makes him feel warm all over.

Harry thought they had friendly banter before, but it’s nothing compared to the way they speak now. They were already texting every day, but now they’re not just talking about surface things like pies and pregnancy. They talk about what’s going on in their lives, they talk about what shows they’ve been watching, they send pictures of themselves and of random things throughout their days, they rant when things go wrong and cheer when things go right, they send memes and recipe videos, and they act like they’ve known each other their whole lives.

Sometimes, a lot more often than Harry wants to admit to himself, they get into flirty territory, and he can’t help but wonder if Nick is trying to ignore the spark just like he is. He knows there really aren’t technically any repercussions to the two of them dating, but he isn’t sure what Nick’s stance is on dating a patient, anyway, especially since he comes with a baby attached. Still, it’s getting harder and harder to brush it all off as just some flirtatious banter between friends when it happens every single conversation.

When Harry heads in for his twenty week appointment, belly very round now and feeling all too proud to be in maternity trousers full time, he finds out he’s having a daughter. He cries when he finds out, cries when he sees them on the ultrasound screen finally looking like an actual human baby instead of a figure he can’t quite make out. He doesn’t  _ really  _ care what gender his baby is, knowing that no matter what, they’ll grow up to be whoever they’re meant to be, but he still finds some joy in knowing a bit more about them. He’s noticed that he’s feeling them move lately, feeling little squirms and wiggles, and when he sees them moving around on the screen, he’s sure his heart grows ten sizes. He doesn’t know how he can love someone he’s never even met so much, but he does. Nick grabs his hand while he looks at the ultrasound, and Harry’s sure he stares for much longer than necessary, but he can’t get over the fact that there’s a real little person in there – someone he gets to love for the rest of his life.

He and Nick celebrate with the lemon cupcakes he brought, all piped with meringue roses like a little bouquet for the baby (which Nick says are delicious but still tuts at him for not bringing him his long-awaited banana cream pie). Nick insists Harry share with the whole office since he brought in a dozen today, and Nick takes him around, introducing him to people he might not’ve met yet. It’s Fiona that says to him, “I’ve heard  _ a lot _ about you,” as she picks up a cupcake, winking like it’s the most casual thing in the world. Harry’s stomach immediately flips – Nick  _ talks about him.  _ He tries to play it cool with a nervous giggle, asking, “Good things, I hope?” and Fiona just touches his shoulder with a twinkle in her eye that tells him all he needs to know.

When he starts work on the nursery, Sarah, Sarah’s boyfriend Mitch, Glenne, and Glenne’s husband Jeff all come over to help paint and assemble furniture. Harry stays out of the room while they paint at their insistence, saying he doesn’t need to be exposed to all the fumes. He takes a pouty selfie of him sitting outside the door, dressed in his painting overalls that make him look quite the part, he thinks, and sends it to Nick. What he doesn’t expect is Nick to offer to come over to help paint, and too overwhelmed, Harry thanks him but declines, knowing his friends really do have it covered. Nick replies saying that if they need another person, he’s happy to come over and show off his excellent painting skills, but unfortunately he agrees with Harry’s friends and tells him he should definitely stay away from the fumes so he and baby stay safe.

When the nursery is finished mere days later, Harry wanders in, hand resting on his belly, and sits down in the rocking chair, imagining his life in the future, what these soft lilac walls will hold for him and his baby. Every situation he imagines has Nick in it – him singing the baby to sleep while Nick stands in the doorway with his arms folded; the two of them getting up in the middle of the night just to watch the baby sleeping softly; taking the baby on a picnic while the three of them laugh in the grass; becoming an inseparable trio with so much love to go around.

He’s starting to picture his  _ forever  _ with Nick in it, starting to think seriously about how seamlessly he fills in the cracks, how he fits in like he’s always been there, like he always will be there. It’s a scary thought, how quickly Nick has come into his life and turned everything upside down, but he can’t say he minds, and he loves being along for the ride life has taken him on.

He hopes Nick really is in it forever.

*

It’s a calm August afternoon that Harry’s spending decorating some birthday cupcakes. He spent the morning finishing up the unfilled pie orders – key lime, banoffee, and coconut cream – in the kitchen alone, completely relaxed having the place all to himself. Even though his back has started to hurt when he has to lean over his bump for extended periods of time, he’s adjusted, and he’s started sitting down more when he needs to, doing most of the intricate heart designs on top while he’s resting. Usually, before he can even register the fact that his back is starting to get achy, Sarah or Glenne has pushed a chair toward him, ready for him the second he needs it, and he’s never been more grateful for them.

He’s moved onto their birthday order, now, though, just a flower design on some simple chocolate cupcakes, which he loves to do. He’s only got a few left, calmly piping the petals in buttercream icing that he has to stop himself from licking off his fingers when Glenne comes crashing through the door interrupting Harry’s inner peace. She nearly runs into the counter as she shouts, “HARRY!” and he instinctually puts his hand over his six month baby bump like that’ll protect the baby.

He startles, jumping slightly and watching as a glob of icing lands on the work table, narrowly missing a cupcake. He stares at her expectantly as she frantically waves her arms like he’s supposed to know what that means. “Have you gone mad?”

She shakes her head fervently. “ _ Hot doctor _ is here! He asked to see you!”

Harry nearly drops his piping bag right on top of the cupcakes, grateful he catches himself before disaster strikes. “ _ Nick _ ?” he asks breathlessly, already knowing what the answer is, and she nods, eyes wide.

_ Nick _ is here. 

Nick came to see him. 

Nick is just outside the door.

At his bakery. 

Wanting to see him.

“He wanted a banana cream pie! And we don’t even fucking have that today!” She’s practically vibrating with excitement, grin on her face the entire time. “Why don’t we have that today? We should have it!”

He had only spoken to Nick briefly this morning, too busy fulfilling orders to have any time to text. He wonders why he didn’t mention that he planned to stop in today. He could’ve at least made him something special had he known.

Harry smiles back at Glenne, taking in a breath, and he puts down the piping bag and smoothes a hand over his belly again. He can feel the baby kicking, like they know he’s nervous and want to remind him they can feel it, too. “I can’t believe he’s...” He trails off, fast-moving thoughts overtaking him

He doesn’t know why, but this feels so  _ different _ even for them. The only time he’s seen Nick outside of his appointments was the time he came over when Harry was feeling especially poorly, so Nick visiting him at work feels like yet another line has been crossed that he can’t explain. He isn’t complaining, though. They’ve become so close over the last few months that he’s beginning to forget what life was like before he had Nick to text every single day.

“Why are you still standing here?” Glenne asks, snapping him out of his thoughts and grabbing his hand. She starts to pull him toward the door. “Hot doctor is  _ waiting _ !”

Harry takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. His hair is clipped back into a tiny ponytail on the top of his head, and he unclips it to do it up again, tucking a few wild curls behind his ears. He debates whether or not to take his apron off, but he decides against it, liking the way it frames his impressive belly. He knows he’s stalling, but he just wasn’t expecting this at all, and his brain can’t process this. The baby jabs his stomach again, like they’re telling him to get out there.

Glenne gently shoves his back, and he turns to look at her, nodding.

He quietly opens the door to head into the bakery, Nick’s back greeting him as he looks around the store. It makes Harry smile to see he’s inspecting everything, like he’s trying to drink in the place completely. “Nick,” Harry says, and Nick quickly swivels to face him, smile immediately coming over his face. “Hey. What brings you here?”

“Well, I wanted a banana cream pie,” Nick answers simply. Harry can tell there’s laughter on his lips that he’s desperately trying to swallow. “But I was told you don’t have that today, so I settled for some bakewell tarts, and I reckon I’ll have to come in and see you again until you have banana.”

Harry grins, and he can feel his cheeks are burning, turning pink. He peeks underneath the lid to see everything he’s gotten instead – two mini bakewell tarts and a slice of their actual pie of the day, chocolate cherry. Good taste. “I mean, you could call and make a special order for yourself. We do those, y’know. But I’m sure that would take the fun out of your little game of texting every day. You’re welcome to pop by every day if you want.”

“Oh, I see. So, now you’re just going to make it tomorrow to get rid of me, hm?”

Harry laughs, shaking his head.  _ I don’t want this to end _ , he thinks. “We’re on a schedule, Nicholas, and I follow the schedule. No exceptions for friends.”

He puts his hand to his chest, scoffing in disgust. “Wow, okay. I guess I’m the lowest block on the totem pole.”

Harry shrugs one shoulder. “You can work your way up.”

They smile at each other for what feels like an eternity. Harry doesn’t know how long it lasts, but the only thing he can focus on is gazing into Nick’s hazel eyes, wondering what it would be like to stare forever. The trance is broken when Nick dares to speak.

“Go to dinner with me. Tonight. Please.”

Harry’s eyes widen in shock, and he feels his smile fall off his face, too surprised to even process. 

A date. 

A proper  _ date _ .

It’s like all the air in the room has disappeared like a rapidly deflating balloon, and he can’t find the right words to say.  _ He wants to go on a date _ is replaying over and over in his head like a broken record, and he’s sure he looks like an idiot just standing there silently. He wants to scream out a  _ yes _ , but he’s suddenly so tongue-tied that no words will leave his mouth. Nick stares down at his shoes, clicking his tongue, and that’s Harry’s clue to finally manage to speak.

“Uh,” is the first thing Harry manages, immediately mad at himself for not being more eloquent, and he nervously rubs a hand over his belly, already bigger than it was when he last saw Nick three weeks ago for his twenty week checkup. He watches Nick follow the motion, quickly shaking his head, and Harry wonders what he’s done wrong.

“Forget I said anything,” Nick says abruptly, waving his hand in the air. He points to the box on the counter. “How much do I owe you for those? You can ring me up, and I’ll be out of your hair till your next appointment.”

It feels like whiplash, how quickly he eats his words. Like maybe Harry imagined the entire thing and he never actually asked him out. He closes the box, reaching under the counter to pull out some pink string that he starts to tie into a bow as he tries to figure out what the next thing he should say is. “What time?” he asks, deciding that’s the easiest way to show he’s interested, and Nick blinks, looking at him with furrowed brows. “I could be out of here by six if that’s okay with you.”

“He can be out of here by  _ five _ ,” Glenne interrupts, popping her head out of the door to the back. She gives Harry a not-so-subtle wink and thumbs up that makes him bury his face in his hands in embarrassment while Nick laughs. That’s a good sign, Harry figures. 

“Piss off, Glenne,” he replies, but it’s loving, no bite behind it, as she giggles and retreats to the back again. He finishes tying the bow in silence, not sure what else to say and not wanting to press Nick. “But yeah, I can be done by  _ five _ , I guess. If that’s alright with you.”

“Of course,” Nick answers with a nod, and there’s a smile coming across his face again, almost like he’s in disbelief. Harry can’t imagine him ever thinking he’d say no. “I can pick you up here? Unless you want to head back to yours to change? Not that you look bad or that I’m suggesting you need to just – ”

“You can take your foot out of your mouth,” Harry says with a laugh, trying his hardest to be reassuring. “I’m not offended. You can come by my flat instead. It won’t take too long to freshen up when I get done, anyway.”

“Yeah, of course.” He nods eagerly, pausing for a moment like he’s searching for the right words. Harry’s heart hammers against his chest. “There’s this new sushi place that just opened that’s supposed to be really good. We could be proper posh and go, if you’d like?”

Harry giggles, and he watches Nick’s face morph into complete confusion. “You’re really suggesting we go get  _ sushi _ , which was, like, number one on the list of things you gave me that I can’t eat?” Harry asks, and Nick groans. “I’m absolutely ashamed _ , Dr. Grimshaw _ . Maybe I should find another doctor now, hm? One that remembers these things.” 

“Oh, fuck.” Nick smacks himself in the forehead dramatically, shaking his head. “I wasn’t even thinking about the baby which is fucking stupid considering that’s how I know you, and I’m a gigantic twat. I’m so s – ”

“You can stop,” Harry tells him, laughing. “I’m just taking the piss. I’d probably forget if I didn’t have it taped to my fridge.”

“You’re not the doctor, though. It’s literally my job to remember this shit.”

“Well, I won’t argue with you there.” He grins, and Nick grins right back at him. Harry wants to kiss him. “We can figure out something later, though, if you aren’t one who needs to have every second planned? My cravings are changing at lightning speed, so what sounds good now might sound rank in three minutes.” He wrinkles his nose. “And I’d like to be as not difficult as possible.”

Nick chuckles as he nods, looking like all the weight has been lifted off his shoulders now that they’re making concrete plans. “That’s fine. Maybe that’ll give me enough time to remember what foods you actually  _ can  _ eat and suggest them accordingly, Star Baker.” Warmth floods through Harry’s veins at the nickname, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to how sweet it is. “How much do I owe you for my treats?”

Harry waves him off. “On me.”

Nick shakes his head, pulling a ten pound note out of his wallet. “Harry, no – ”

“Really, Nick, it’s on me.” He hands him the box over the counter, and their fingers lightly brush. It feels like a jolt of electricity, a pleasant buzz beneath Harry’s skin. “You taking me out tonight is payment enough.”

Nick shakes his head slightly, and Harry watches as he drops the tenner into the tip jar. Harry murmurs a thank you, and it’s Nick’s turn to wave him off. “Let’s hope I’m not a shit date, or you’ll regret saying that,” Nick says, and Harry rolls his eyes fondly, shaking his head slightly. 

“I’m sure you won’t be a shit date.”

Nick grins at him, then ghosts his fingers over his box of baked goods where their fingers touched just moments ago. “Um, see you tonight then? At your flat? And no sushi.”

“No sushi,” Harry repeats with a laugh, and he waves as Nick starts to walk backward toward the door. He takes one last lingering glance before turning to face the door, and Harry doesn’t miss the way he glances over his shoulder one last time before the bell jingling overhead signals he’s really left.

Harry takes it all in for a moment, smiling as he can see Nick out the window, stopping on the sidewalk with his face in his hands, covering a grin. He feels like he could take flight, and from the look of it, Nick feels the same. He watches as he composes himself, sliding his sunglasses on as he starts to walk down the sidewalk again, out of Harry’s sight.

“Oh my god, Harry!” Glenne yells, exploding like a firework as the door smashes against the wall with how quickly she runs out, like she’s been holding herself back this entire time and Nick leaving was the starting gun. He looks over at her dazedly, smiling, and she grabs his forearm like she’s trying to tether him to earth again. “What the  _ fuck  _ just happened?”

He bites his lip, grinning. “I’ve got a date.”

*

The rest of the day, Harry gets virtually nothing done. He’s lucky Nick came to visit in the late afternoon so virtually everything was finished when he got there, aside from the few cupcakes left he still needed to ice. Glenne spends the rest of the day bubbling over with excitement and begging him to text her the play by play of his date the second he gets home. She also calms his nerves when he gets too into his own head, wondering aloud for maybe the millionth time if Nick really does want him knowing a baby comes with him. “You’re not exactly hiding the baby from him,” she says with a laugh, touching Harry’s bump gently, and he knows she’s right.

As Harry’s finally getting ready to leave to go home and get himself ready for his date – he gets butterflies just thinking about it – Jeff comes into the bakery wearing a backwards snapback and a smile. “Hey, H!” 

“Hello, Jeffrey,” Harry replies with a grin as he unties his apron. “Shall I get your wife? She’s in the back.”

Jeff waves his hand as if to say don’t worry about it. “If she’s busy, I don’t wanna bug her, but hey, she did tell me you have a  _ date  _ tonight.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry rolls his eyes, letting out a laugh. He should’ve expected Glenne would tell everyone they know about it. He thinks it’s cute that his friends are so happy for him, but sometimes he wishes that maybe, just maybe they were a little less gossip-y. Still, he takes it in stride knowing that it means they care. “Heard it through the grapevine?” he sing-songs, shimmying his shoulder a bit, and Jeff shrugs.

“I have my inside sources.”

As if on cue, Glenne pops her head out the door with a smile. “Thought I heard you, J. Come to wish H well on his date?”

As Harry hangs up his apron, Glenne lightly hip checks him. “What?” he asks with an amused laugh, and she stares at him for a beat, goofy grin on her face.

“I’m just excited for you,” she replies earnestly, lighting touching his forearm. “And he  _ is _ a hot doctor! This is so exciting. Your baby will have another daddy now!”

Harry shakes his head, letting out a  _ pfft _ noise. “You’re, like, twelve steps ahead, Glenne. Chill out.” 

“I don’t think I am,” she says indignantly with a shake of her head. She starts to head out from behind the counter, stopping to take Harry’s belly in both hands. She already takes her role of godmother very seriously, and it makes Harry melt anytime his friends talk to the baby. “Behave for daddy, little one! He’s got a big night!”

Harry chuckles, and as if on cue, the baby kicks right where Glenne’s holding her hand. Harry watches her gasp and light up like the sun, beaming. “That never gets old,” she says softly as she looks up at him in awe. She leaves her hand on his belly for a few seconds longer before finally pulling away. “I really am just so excited for you.” She leans up to peck his cheek, and Harry pulls her into a one-armed hug, warm all over.

“Thanks, Glenne.”

“And all I’m saying is that if he isn’t good to you tonight, I’ll kick his ass.” Jeff jokingly holds up a fist, trying to look menacing, but it doesn’t work when he breaks into a grin.

Harry rolls his eyes lovingly as Glenne sidles up next to her husband, standing with their arms around each other like parents anxiously watching their child leave for their first date.

“And he should have you home by ten!” Glenne adds, and Jeff nods dutifully.

“Alright, Mum and Dad,” Harry laughs, exaggeratedly blowing them kisses as he walks out the door, bell jingling overhead. He’s thankful his friends care so much about him.

“Don’t forget to text!” he hears Jeff yell after him, and he can’t help but chuckle to himself.

He heads to his car, parked in a small parking lot to the side of the bakery, and hops in, deciding he should text Nick before he gets home. He types out a text to let him know that he’ll be ready in about an hour before he pockets his phone and starts home. 

Harry’s mind wanders on his short drive, wondering if he’s crazy for deciding to go on a date with his doctor, wondering if  _ Nick  _ is crazy for asking out a patient – a  _ pregnant  _ patient no less – but he keeps reminding himself they’re just people. And some people click. 

He’s just so  _ nervous  _ about tonight, still not exactly sure why since he and Nick have been in almost constant contact for months now. This feels like a shift there’s no going back from though, and it’s a little daunting. He thinks back to Glenne calming his nerves all day, and he reassures himself it’s all fine.

It’s just one date, he tells himself, heading into his flat.

He showers quickly and decides on a pair of cream trousers and a white shirt with a light pink floral button down over it, left open around his bump. He looks at himself in the mirror and smiles, rubbing his hand gently down his belly. “Let’s do this, yeah, baby?” he whispers, and they move against his hand as if to say yes.

A part of him starts to doubt things again, but he shakes it off, not wanting to go into the date with a bad vibe for absolutely no reason. He spends a few minutes messing with his hair and clasping a string of pearls around his neck as he sighs, knowing Nick will be arriving soon. His nervousness has faded into a good kind of jittery energy, almost excitement, and he’s putting his rings back on, looking down at his peach-colored manicure when there’s a knock at the door.

Harry takes in a deep breath, smoothing a hand over his belly as he opens the door. Nick’s grinning and lets out a small gasp when he sees him. Harry feels butterflies take flight in his stomach, flattered by Nick’s reaction. Nick’s in black trousers and a white t-shirt with a patterned blazer over it, chunky bracelets adorning each arm, and he’s holding a bouquet of pink roses. “Wow,” Nick breathes, and Harry feels himself start to flush. “You look amazing.”

“So do you,” he replies, and he means it, even though Nick waves him off with a fond roll of his eyes.

Nick takes him in for another second, then darts his eyes away like he doesn’t want Harry to realize he was staring. “So, um.” He clears his throat, shaking his head a bit with a smile. Harry’s already endeared. “Oh. These are for you,” he says softly, holding out the flowers toward him with a shy smile.

“They’re gorgeous,” Harry tells him. Their hands brush as he grasps the bouquet, burying his nose in the soft petals to take in their sweet scent. “Thank you. This was really lovely of you.”

“Thought the pink suited you.”

“It does match me tonight,” he replies, motioning toward his shirt with a smile, and Nick looks all too pleased. “Lemme put these in water quickly before we leave. You can come in for a second.”

Nick steps into the flat as Harry heads to the kitchen, sneaking a quick sniff of the flowers again. He hides his grin in them, thinking about how thoughtful it is that Nick even got him some. He pulls a vase out of the cabinet. “Oh, god,” Nick laughs, and Harry looks over at him, giving him a quizzical look.

Nick motions to the box of sour sweets on his coffee table, now almost empty. He briefly thinks he should’ve hidden those before Nick arrived, but at least he knows his present was appreciated. “I guess this was a good gift, then, yeah? Guess the craving was more serious than I thought.”

Harry chuckles, feeling his cheeks start to turn the same color as the roses. “I mean, it really is all your fault. Practically despised all things sour till you tried to cure my morning sickness. But yeah, it was a good gift, Nicholas.”

He doesn’t miss the smile Nick tries to hide by turning his head the other way. “Oh, have you decided what sounds good for dinner tonight?”

“I really want a burger,” Harry laughs as he fills the vase with water from the tap and starts to take the paper off the flowers. “Like, _ really _ want a burger.” 

Nick laughs, nodding when Harry glances over at him. “Alright, can do, I guess.” 

Harry fixes the flowers in the vase, smiling as he steps back to take another look at them before deciding they look good enough. “Thank you,” he says again, heading back toward the door. “I love flowers, and these are so gorgeous.”

“Of course. Anything for you.”

“There’s a great burger place a couple blocks away,” Harry suggests, slipping his feet into his pink boots and slinging his purse over his shoulder, “and we could go there for dinner. Don’t know if you’ve ever been by there, but it’s amazing.”

Harry doesn’t miss the way Nick wrinkles his nose as they head out into the hallway, locking the door behind them. Harry frowns. “Does that not sound good?” he asks, and Nick shakes his head. 

“No, no, no,” he assures, lightly touching Harry’s arm. Nick holds the door open for him as they walk outside. “I just wanted our first date to be special, like, somewhere really posh to make a good impression, but if that’s what you want, that’s perfect, Star Baker. Just a little different than my original plan.”

Harry smiles as he tries not to think about the fact that Nick had clearly been imagining a very special evening between the two of them. He wonders how long he’s had fantasies of them out together on a date but lets the thought pass as quickly as it comes to stay in the moment. “Think you’ve already left an impression, Nicholas. Can’t exactly remember the last time I was asked out by one of my doctors.”

Nick barks out a laugh, stopping in front of his car. “Guess I’m glad I’m the first, then. I feel like it’d be my job to recommend you other physicians if this was a common occurrence.” He starts toward the driver’s seat, and Harry tilts his head in question, brows furrowed. “I can drive.”

Harry shakes his head with a bit of a laugh. “Thank you, but it’s literally right down the block.” Harry points in the general direction. “I’m sure we can get there just fine by walking.”

“No, I know. It’s just that you’ve been on your feet all day, and I know pregnancy can be tiring and – ”

“Wasn’t that another thing on one of the papers you gave me? Getting proper exercise or some shit like that? Wouldn’t a short walk fall into that category?” Harry bats his eyelashes.

Nick shakes his head, mouth twisted to the side in a crooked smile. Harry starts to walk again, a few steps ahead. “I’m glad you’re so trusting even after I’ve made it clear I’m a twat who probably shouldn’t even have his medical license. You better not write that shit Yelp review you’ve threatened.”

“Hey, don’t put yourself down like that.” He gingerly pats Nick’s shoulder, and Nick looks over at him, grinning. “I’ll decide  _ after _ the date if I wanna write the shit Yelp review.”

“ _ Pfft.  _ I’ll be on my best behavior, then.”

It’s a beautiful night for spending some time outside, a light breeze in the air and not too many people milling about – the perfect summer evening. Even though they spend their walk chatting like normal, an easiness to their conversation that doesn’t usually exist on first dates, Harry still has butterflies in his stomach when he thinks about actually having a sit down dinner with Nick. He swallows his nervousness down and rests his hand on his belly.

“We should’ve driven,” Nick says, looking over at Harry with his brows knit together. His eyes are focused on Harry’s hand on his stomach. “Are you alright?”

“I’m  _ fine _ , Nick,” Harry assures softly, “I’m not that fragile. Promise.” He can’t help but be endeared by how protective Nick is of him, even when there’s no reason to be. Nick hums after he says he’s alright, and Harry notices him keeping a close eye on him for the duration of their short walk.

Nick opens the door for Harry once they get to the restaurant, checking out the place a bit as they walk in. “Oh, it’s cute in here,” he muses over the loud chatter, looking around at the bustling wait staff and neon art lining the walls.

It’s small and modern – a bench against the entirety of the exposed brick wall with tables pushed up against it and a bar along the opposite side with bottles of every color of the rainbow used as decor. Between the neon lights are covers of different vinyl albums and vintage posters, giving the space a trendy but familiar feel. Harry’s loved this place for years. “Did you think I was gonna take you to a dump?” Harry asks, bumping Nick’s shoulder against his own.

Nick shakes his head, gently touching Harry’s wrist as he starts to speak. “I’ve seen the things some of my patients crave, Harold. And some of it looks like it  _ came _ from a dump, so excuse me for being slightly wary.”

Harry laughs, hand migrating to his belly like he’s apologizing to the baby for Nick’s comment. “Excused.”

A hostess comes over to seat them almost immediately, and they’re given a booth by the window that’s letting a bit of the evening sunlight into the dimly lit restaurant. Harry already knows what he wants, but he still looks over the menu anyway, pointing out what’s good to Nick in case he had any doubts.

Nick eyes the cocktail menu briefly before flipping the menu over again to focus only on the food. Harry nudges him with the toe of his boot. “You can order one if you want,” he says, taking a sip of his water, but Nick just shakes his head, shrugging. “I’m not, like, bothered by it.”

“Feels a bit like rubbing it in, doesn’t it?” he asks with a laugh. “Kind of a wanker move ordering alcohol when you can’t even drink.”

“They have great sangria, though,” Harry tells him, and Nick shakes his head again. He pouts a little, making Nick laugh. “I miss it.”

“We’ll come back after you’ve had bub, then,” Nick says casually, like it’s a given they’ll still be in each other’s lives, like he’s planning on being there always. 

He says it so easily, without a second thought. 

Harry feels his heart hammer against his ribs and hides his bashful smile behind the menu.

They share a basket of chips, ketchup on the side, and Harry doesn’t miss that Nick lets him take far more. They chat amiably over their drinks – a Diet Coke for Nick – asking about each other’s day, about the little things, and it’s when their burgers (a double cheeseburger for both of them, but a veggie burger with extra pickles for Harry, and Nick laughs at him and calls him predictable) actually arrive that the conversation turns slightly more serious.

“So,” Nick says, a few bites into his burger, blotting his chin with a napkin, “not to use the most overused-but-still-effective line in the dating handbook, but tell me about yourself.”

Harry chuckles around a bite of food, nodding. “You’re right, still works. What do you wanna know? You’ve already got access to my medical records.”

“Cheeky. First I wanna know why you picked the messiest fucking restaurant imaginable for a first date. Feel like I should’ve brought a bib from home. Christ.” Harry laughs loudly, clamping a hand over his mouth to try to muffle the sound. “There’s no way to look pretty and eat a burger, Haz, but perhaps that was your plan all along. If you can’t handle me at my eating a burger, you don’t deserve me at my seductively licking an ice cream cone.”

Harry laughs again, shaking his head. “What baby wants, baby gets,” he answers simply, patting his belly, and Nick sighs.

“I suppose I can forgive them then. They know not what they make you crave,” he replies solemnly, but there’s a grin tugging at his lips. “And this burger is very nice, so I can’t be too upset, anyway. But yes, tell me the origin story of one Mr. Harry Styles.”

“I mean, I dunno,” Harry starts, thinking for a moment before he continues. “I guess if you’d asked me where I thought my life was gonna end up, it wouldn’t be me getting pregnant from a one night stand and then going on a date with my doctor...” Nick snorts. “But I’m pretty easy going. Like, this wasn’t a major shake-up in my life plans, I guess. I can easily adjust. I mean, my bakery is already established, and it isn’t like I’m just starting up now, so I’ve got the funds for a baby. That’s probably the most major thing about me right now, hm?”

Nick shrugs, thoughtfully chewing on a chip. “I think you’re a bit more than just an accidental pregnancy.”

“Oh, I know that. I’d like to think I’m pretty great.” 

Nick nods. “You are.” 

Harry smiles, toes curling with happiness inside his boots. “I guess I’m just shocked you’re not put off by it all,” he says honestly, taking another bite of his burger.

“Of course not.” It’s an immediate answer. Harry hides his grin with his napkin as he wipes his mouth. “So, tell me about you and your bakery.”

“Well, I opened my bakery four years ago, and I’ve done pretty well, I think. I grew up baking with my mum and absolutely loved it. I never really thought I’d make a career out of it though because I think I always thought I had to do something more...functional? So, I was studying to be a physio, and I actually hated it.” He chuckles to himself. “I tried to convince myself I liked it, but I didn’t, so I finished my studies and graduated, but I did odd jobs all through uni to make money. And I started a pie business on the side, and I was doing pies and cupcakes, and my friend Glenne – the one you met at the shop – was like, ‘why don’t you just  _ do this _ ?’ And then it kinda hit me that yeah, something like that could be sustainable. And I’ve loved every minute of it, even if getting things off the ground was scary.”

“God, yeah, I’d imagine that’s terrifying trying to set up your own shop. Cause then all of it’s on you, and you can’t quite predict whether or not you’ll be successful.”

Harry nods. “Right, it definitely was, and I’ve been lucky with word of mouth stuff cause my friends have told their friends who’ve told their friends and so on. I love what I do, and it doesn’t really feel like work most days. It’s, like, lovely to go in and bake pies with no one else around. It’s a good time to think about things.”

Nick smiles around a bite of burger like he’s just made a discovery. “So, that’s why you always felt like you had to go into work even though you were so sick at the start.”

Harry shrugs. “A bit. I feel like I get my best moments of clarity while I’m baking, so I spent a lot of those early days thinking about the baby and stuff. It’s just the ultimate calm for me, having that time alone doing something I know I’m good at. But enough about me – how did you decide this is what you were gonna do?”

“I like hearing about you though,” Nick retorts, smiling at Harry, and it goes straight to his heart.

“You’re quite a charmer, know how to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world,” Harry replies, singing it to the tune of the Rihanna song and making Nick laugh. “But I would like to know more about you, Nicholas.”

Nick winks, humming thoughtfully before he starts to speak. “Well, when my sister fell pregnant, I was very young cause there’s quite an age gap between us, and I was so excited about becoming an uncle that she let me tag along to all her appointments. Which was very nice of her, really, because it must’ve been the worst bringing along an overexcited little brother.” Harry smiles at the thought of baby Nick – how much that story makes sense with the man he knows now. “But I was so fascinated by it all and always asked a million questions to the point where she’d try to shut me up, and that was when I decided maybe I should actually, like, study this and do that for a living. And of course my mum was so excited when she found out I wanted to be a doctor, so I  _ juuuust _ edged my sister out for perfect child even though she was the first one to give my mum a grandbaby.”

“That’s really cute she let you go with her though. She’s a sweet big sister to do that and must really love you a lot.”

“She’s the  _ best _ ,” Nick says, a grin coming over his face as he says it, like he can’t hide his love for his family. “My niece is so wonderful, too. We’ve been close since she was a baby, really, cause I always wanted to watch over her like a little father figure. She’s over at mine all the time now that she’s more grown up. It’s so crazy to see her as an adult-like person now when I remember going to hospital for her birth. Like, how quickly time passes. I love her dearly.”

He imagines the time passing with his own baby, how he’ll get to watch that journey and touches his hand to his belly to ground him. “It sounds like you’re surrounded by a lot of love.”

“Yeah, I think I’m really lucky. I’ve got a great family and a lot of great mates. It seems like you do, too though?”

Harry nods, biting into a chip. “Yeah, I really do. I’ve got a great mum and sister who are so endlessly supportive and amazing and such great friends I know I can always count on, which I think can be hard to find, really. Not everyone can say they have that. I think they can be a bit overprotective at times cause I’m the baby of the group, but.”

“Never,” Nick tells him with a laugh. “It’s good to have people like that.”

Harry giggles to himself as he thinks about Glenne and Jeff seeing him off on his date, and Nick’s brows furrow in question. “Glenne’s husband Jeff came round the shop before I left to tell me he’d kick your ass if you weren’t good to me tonight.”

Nick guffaws as he leans back in his chair. He’s radiant when he’s laughing, like there’s rays of sunlight pouring out of him, and Harry wants to bask in his warmth. “I’ll be sure not to fuck it up then. Unless I’ve already gone and done that? Am I on thin ice?”

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “You’re still good. Glenne was just happy I was going on a date.”

“Jesus. We’ve all got  _ those  _ friends,” Nick laments, “and one of mine was doing the same thing to me today, too, and I’m sure she’s waiting to hear if she needs to start planning our wedding.” 

“Mmm, big fan of pastels,” Harry says with a smile. “Spring wedding, you think? If we go for summer, we’ll have to either rush it or wait until next year, and neither is ideal.”

Nick grins back at him. “Spring wedding it is, then. I’ll have her start a Pinterest board.”

They fall silent for a moment, and Harry takes in a breath, wondering if he should even admit this. “I mean, being honest, I guess as far as dating goes, I didn’t really think I’d find anyone now that I’m pregnant.” There are inexplicably tears in his eyes, and he reaches up to wipe one away. 

Nick grabs his hand, stroking along the back of it gently, and Harry’s mind floats back to the day he did this in his office all those months ago. “Harry...” He looks at him so earnestly.

“Like, I wasn’t really _ looking _ because I’ve been fine with my life how it is. I wasn’t thinking about it at all until all of  _ this _ ended up happening.” He gestures vaguely with his free hand, shrugging. “I wasn’t worried about it or anything because I’ve just been focusing on my pregnancy and having a healthy baby, and it’s just been in my head that I’m gonna do this alone. Not, like, completely alone, obviously, but without a partner. And then after meeting you...” He smiles, and Nick presses his thumb into the back of his hand. “All of that changed. And it feels almost scarier to go into this with you than it is to do it alone.”

“It’s okay  _ not _ to do this alone,” Nick whispers. 

He nods. “At first I didn’t even think you were actually flirting with me because I didn’t think you’d want someone who was having a baby.”

“Star Baker, I absolutely was flirting with you,” Nick chuckles, grip on Harry’s hand tightening ever so slightly. He can feel his heart thudding against his ribs, a roar in his ears. “A bit unprofessional of me,  _ perhaps _ , but still. It never even crossed my mind that you’d think I wouldn’t actually be interested because of the baby. I thought you were beautiful at first go, and we got on immediately...it just felt  _ right _ . I’ve never felt that way about anyone before, patient or not. Nothing else mattered because I was just so taken with  _ you _ . And in case you haven’t noticed, I rather like babies.”

Relief takes over him as he smiles at Nick. “I mean, I could’ve guessed you liked babies considering your line of work.”

“Been playing the role of dad since primary when all the girls wanted to play house,” Nick laughs. “I reckon it comes naturally.”

Harry giggles. “Good to know you’ve got extra experience. I dunno, really, I just wasn’t sure you’d want to take on the responsibility of one so soon,” he admits, and Nick shrugs. “Doesn’t that scare you? Our alone time is immediately cut short.”

“I’ve always wanted kids,” Nick answers easily, and Harry’s heart is still hammering in his chest. “I can’t say I ever put much thought into how that would happen for me though. I just knew they were something I wanted one day, and if that time is now, then I’m really happy with that. If you’ll let me into your life, I’ll be there for both of you.” 

“I just keep thinking about how It’s not just the start of a relationship. It’s so much more than that. It’s the two of us cause we’re kind of a package deal now.” 

“It’s not just any baby though. They’re  _ yours _ . And you’re  _ everything _ .”

Harry’s not usually at a loss for words, but he is now, struggling to find something that he feels conveys his gratitude for Nick’s kindness. “Thank you,” he says sincerely, wishing his words matched the gravity of the emotion. The look Nick gives him tells him they do.

Nick insists on paying for dinner, saying it’s compensation for Harry not charging him for his goodies from the bakery. Harry doesn’t put up too much of a fight because he gets the feeling Nick won’t let him win anyway. Nick hesitantly reaches for Harry’s hand as they leave the restaurant, looking over at him for affirmation, and Harry links their fingers together, smiling as he does.

“In the mood for ice cream?” Nick asks as they stroll leisurely back toward Harry’s flat.

“I’m pregnant – do you think I’d say no?” he replies, pointing to his belly, and Nick grins.

“I know a cute little place. We would have to drive, though. Can’t have you walking all over the city even if you think you can win an Iron Man triathlon. It’s like a ten minute drive.”

“See, we’ve done your recommended short walk,” Harry says, holding back a giggle, “so  _ now _ it’s fine if you wanna be my chauffeur.” 

“Great to know that I’m on my way back up to a five star Yelp review. This is my redemption arc.”

“Ooh, I wouldn’t get too confident,” Harry chides, squeezing Nick’s hand just a bit tighter. Nick squeezes back. “There’s still a lot of date left.”

“Yes, but there’s ice cream, and I can’t cock it up too badly when there’s  _ ice cream _ , Harold.”

“Solid argument,” Harry agrees with a giggle.

The drive is spent singing along to what’s on the radio with Nick telling Harry he once thought about becoming a radio presenter. Harry laughs and has to admit that he auditioned for  _ The X-Factor _ when he was younger, and the two of them think of a world where they meet as radio host and popstar, like every universe has some iteration of their friendship.

Nick buys their ice cream cones – strawberry for Nick and a scoop of hazelnut and a scoop of honeycomb for Harry – and this time Harry does put up more of a fight, but still Nick insists. “Better not keep this up or I’ll get used to being spoiled,” Harry tells him with a smile.

Nick shrugs, ghosting his fingers over the small of Harry’s back to lead him to a bench outside the shop. “Maybe I like spoiling you.”

There’s a shiver that runs down Harry’s spine, and he isn’t quite sure how to respond, so he switches his focus. “I see I do deserve to see you at your seductively licking an ice cream cone if you brought me here, though.”

Laughing, Nick nods as he swipes his tongue up the dripping side of his cone. “I’m quite good.”

“You are,” Harry agrees, locking eyes with him and licking his hazelnut cone as Nick’s eyes follow the movement. “So am I.”

The conversation flows easily for the rest of their date, making more jokes about their ice cream cone licking expertise and sharing laughs and little moments that Harry knows he’ll randomly remember days from now and smile about. They watch patrons trickle in and out of the shop, and Harry doesn’t know how long they sit there – it could be hours, but it feels like minutes when he’s with Nick, time floating by like clouds. When they decide they’ve overstayed their welcome, Nick opens the door for Harry and helps him into his car, definitely guaranteeing him at least a four star Yelp review. The drive back to Harry’s flat is spent debating the best song currently on pop radio.

“This was a lot of fun,” Harry says once they’re standing outside his flat. The breeze has picked up slightly, blowing Nick’s hair wildly in front of his eyes. He resists the urge to brush it away. “I’d love to do it again sometime.”

“Me too, Star Baker,” Nick answers easily, running his hand through his hair, but the breeze pushes it over his eyes again. Harry leans over to tuck a few wild strands behind his ear, and Nick smiles at him – it feels so tender, so soft. When Harry pulls back, Nick looks fidgety suddenly, unsure in a way he hasn’t looked all night. He shoves his hands into his pockets awkwardly as he takes a step back. “I had a really great time.” He pauses like he wants to say more but isn’t sure what comes next.

They stare at each other for a moment too long, Nick’s hazel eyes almost turning emerald under the glow of the street lights. With the wind starting to swirl around them, Harry can’t take the tension anymore and leans forward, reaching out his hand to cup Nick’s cheek, and presses their lips together. Nick immediately leans forward to deepen the kiss, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist, Harry’s baby bump between them. 

It’s happening too fast and not fast enough, and it’s all too much and not enough, and his brain is short-circuiting. 

It’s magical, like everything he’s always wanted for himself. 

The sparks, the flame, the fireworks.

It’s  _ perfect. _

Still, it’s Harry that pulls away first, completely overwhelmed, and Nick smiles at him with puffy lips, just staring for a few seconds. “Wow,” he finally says, breathless. “Wow.”

The emotion around them is so palpable there’s no need for words, and they keep eye contact for a few moments entirely uninterrupted like they’re in some sort of romantic comedy.

“Oh.” Harry smiles suddenly, and Nick furrows his brows. “They’re kicking,” Harry whispers, grabbing Nick’s hand and placing it on his belly. He realizes then that Nick’s never felt them kick – not even at any of his appointments when he’s actually examining him. He watches Nick light up as his baby jabs their tiny feet against the palm of his hand, and Harry’s sure he’s felt it a thousand times before, but he can tell his enthusiasm is still genuine. It feels so intimate, like Nick’s hand has always belonged there, like this was always how it was supposed to go.

“They’re strong,” Nick says softly, looking down at Harry’s bump with a smile, lingering for a moment before pulling his hand away. Harry just nods, biting back a smile of his own. “Wow. Thanks for, uh, letting me feel.”

“Of course.”

Nick’s gaze lingers on Harry for a few seconds more, hot like a spotlight. Finally, Nick asks, “Call you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Harry says with a nod, the easiest answer in the world.

Nick leans in to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and Harry feels warm all the way down to his toes, like love has been injected straight into his veins. “See you, Star Baker.” Nick waves, stalling at his car for a moment to look back at Harry before actually getting in. Harry feebly waves back, heart hammering in his chest as he tries to process the entire evening but mostly the last few minutes.

It’s perfect.

*

Harry smiles to himself when he comes into an empty kitchen the morning after his date, glad he’ll have a bit of time to himself before Glenne and Sarah come rushing to him with a laundry list of questions about last night. 

He still feels like he’s on cloud nine. Last night was absolutely incredible, and he can’t stop replaying their kiss in his head, wondering when it’ll happen again. He feels giddy in a way he hasn’t in so long, like the world’s a little brighter and a little better today. The baby’s pleasantly squirming in his belly like they’re happy, too. He starts the crust for today’s pies – lemon, he thinks, for all the sunshine in his life – lost in his head about what the future holds for them and where they go from here.

Harry turns on some music as he bakes, today’s soundtrack the sweet sounds of Joni Mitchell’s “Help Me” while the joy of falling in love is so on his brain. He’s got the crusts in the oven, starting to stir up the lemon curd on the stove top as he’s singing to himself, sticking his finger into a cooled bit on the spoon to test it. It’s then that Sarah walks in, grinning, and he smiles back at her, seeing all the unsaid words written all over her face. She brings a nervous energy in with her that Harry’s sure won’t dissipate until she gets every last detail about his date with Nick.

“New craving?” she asks with a laugh as she grabs her apron off a hook in the back, and all Harry can do is shrug as he heads over to the sink to wash his hands and to get a new spoon.

“All things sour lately, actually. Nick got me sour sweets at the start when I was sick, and that was the start of it. I’ve never liked it until I got pregnant.” He pats his belly lightly. “Or I maybe have a Sour Patch Kid in there.” 

Sarah laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners, and puts on her apron. Her eyes never leave Harry as she ties it around her waist, and as she tightens her ponytail, he can see she’s waiting for the right moment to pounce and ask about his date.

He dries his hands on the towel next to the sink, heading back to the stove. He innocently stirs the curd, and he glances over his shoulder to see Sarah head over to a work table, leaning her elbows on it as she looks in his direction. He can tell she’s about to burst if she doesn’t find out what happened last night, but he can’t help but extend the torture a bit longer just to be a pest. Sarah hums along to Joni, drumming her fingers on the counter in time with the beat. Harry can tell her patience is rapidly waning from the increased intensity of her pattering, and he decides to finally grant her what she’s looking for. The curd is almost done, so he turns off the burner and spins around to face Sarah again. She’s staring at him expectantly, like her gaze will bore a hole right through him.

“You can ask, y’know,” he says with a laugh, and she jumps a bit, like he’s somehow shocked he could read her mind. “You look like you’re about to blast off.”

That breaks the dam wide open, and Sarah’s entire face lights up as the words start to fall out of her mouth, talking animatedly with her hands. “How was it? Was it wonderful? Where’d you go? What’d you do? Did you hit it off? Is he as charming as you thought? Did he pay for dinner? I mean, I know you can pay for your own, but it’s still, like, about the gesture, innit? So did he at least ask? Does he wanna take you out again? Do you wanna be taken out again? Did you feel wined and dined?”

Harry smiles coyly, shrugging. “I never kiss and tell.”

“HARRY!” she shouts, rushing over to him just to gently swat at his shoulder. “There was a  _ kiss _ ?”

He feels like he’s back in school, talking with all his friends about his newest crush. The butterflies still feel the same even if adulthood makes crushes and first dates feel a bit different. “There was,” Harry answers with a smile, “and burgers and ice cream that he paid for and good banter.”

“You look proper smitten,” Sarah says with a grin, looking more pleased with herself than she has a right to. “Do you wanna see him again? Like, beyond him checking out bub.”

“I do, yeah.” Harry nods, unable to stop himself from smiling. “We get on really well, and he’s just fun to spend time with. It’s  _ easy _ with him. I don’t really know why I was so nervous because there really wasn’t much of that first date awkwardness since we’ve already hung out? It was just...nice.”

She’s still grinning, and she reaches up to pinch his cheek, making him giggle. “You deserve that, love,” she says earnestly, and it almost makes Harry want to cry. “I’m so happy for you!” She looks like she has more to say, but her mouth twists unpleasantly. Harry’s brows furrow, and she quickly brightens her expression, carefully asking, “Did you, um, talk about...” There’s a vague gesture toward his belly, like she’s not sure she should ask this.

Harry nods again. “Yeah, we did,” he replies, and relief washes over her face. “That was easier than I thought, too. Like, deep down, I think I already knew he was gonna be okay with everything just because as a doctor, he knows better than anyone what he’s getting into, but I’d somehow also convinced myself that talking about the baby with him was gonna be so insanely scary. And it was a little nervy, but he was alright with it all, and it was even easier than I thought it was gonna be.”

“Haaarry,” Sarah drawls delightedly, reaching out to grasp his arm gently. “See! Your baby does have another daddy now! Glenne was so right!”

Harry waves her off with a laugh.

“This is so exciting though! Tell me more! Tell me everything!”

Harry laughs, shrugging. “Well, he brought me flowers. Pink roses. So that was lovely.” Sarah squeals. “He felt the baby kick for the first time last night, which was really sweet. Great timing on their part.” He smiles thinking back to it, the feeling of Nick’s hand pressed against his bump. “Oh! He said we’d have to go back to the restaurant we went to once the baby’s here so we could both have their sangria.”

“Wait! He’s talking about life after bub comes?” Harry nods. “So you’re going to, like,  _ actually _ date then, yeah? Like, officially?”

Harry supposes he hadn’t really thought about actually asking Nick to be his boyfriend, but he thinks he’d like to eventually. He just assumed it would come naturally, like their relationship would organically fall into place, but maybe Sarah’s right. He shrugs, looking down at the floor. “I dunno. I guess I didn’t really think about it. I still have to see him for the rest of my pregnancy, anyway, so...”

“Well, then, c’mon, H!  _ He’s _ clearly thinking about the future! Make it official!”

The thought had passed through Harry’s mind, but he just shakes his head. “On date number two?” he laughs, and Sarah just nods like he’s the insane one. “Think that’s a bit fast, Sarah.”

She rolls her eyes lovingly. “If it feels right, it’s not too fast.”

He grabs his oven mitts and checks on the crusts, avoiding giving her a response. They’re just about done, only a few more minutes, so he closes the oven and turns back to Sarah. “You know I’m right,” she says with a shrug.

“Please put this energy into starting the cupcake batter, hmm?” Harry replies, and she just laughs, giving him a half-hearted salute. “Strawberry today, maybe?”

“Whatever you say,” she answers sweetly, ponytail already swishing behind her as she starts to get out a mixing bowl. “See how I  _ listen  _ to you? That’s what friends do.” He just shakes his head, smiling to himself. “And you’re gonna have to give more details when Glenne gets here.”

He smiles to himself, knowing that Glenne will think of questions Sarah hadn’t even thought of, and he’ll spend the rest of the day being sporadically interrogated. He doesn’t mind, really, happy to share with his friends. He finishes up the lemon pies as Sarah starts on the cupcakes, the two of them working in comfortable silence and humming along to the music every so often. The buzz of Harry’s phone against the counter is an unwelcome loud noise that makes the two of them jump, and he grabs it as quickly as he can so Sarah doesn’t get to it first.

Predictably, it’s a text from Nick.

_ Mooornnning Star Baker! Think I’m still full from dinner last night...oooof. Last night was amazing though H, had so much fun can’t wait to do it again very soon :) I hope you and bub are well today xxx _

He feels lighter than air when he reads it, hardly even noticing Sarah on her tiptoes straining to read it over his shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, just presses a kiss to his cheek and smiles at him in a way that says more than words ever could.

*

Their second date comes a couple days later, just a few days before Harry’s 24 week appointment. It’s much more casual this time, Nick turning up to Harry’s flat in ripped jeans and a vest with a bandana around his neck, revealing tattoos on his arms that Harry didn’t even know he had. They grab sandwiches at a cafe and eat them in the park while taking Nick’s two dogs for a walk. The dogs immediately take to Harry, happily letting him hold the leashes, which Nick assures him is a huge accomplishment, and Harry takes it in stride. He feels like it’s one more sign they’re puzzle pieces, that this is all somehow meant to be. After a few hours of laughter and sunshine and lots of doggie pets, Nick drops Harry off at his flat with another goodbye kiss that feels like the most natural, perfect thing in the world.

Harry wants this forever. He finds himself thinking of it more often than he’d like, the thought of their future popping into his head at random times, frames of a life still unlived flickering in his mind. Like the night he’s adding a few things to the nursery, folding onesies to add to the dresser, imagining the two of them taking care of the baby together, taking turns feeding them and bathing them - a team like no other. Like the night he’s making himself dinner, thoughts wandering to what it would be like if he had Nick to cook for him when he was too tired. Like the night he wakes up alone with an aching back while the baby kicks, thinking maybe it’d be nice to have Nick there to soothe him and rub his back.

He thinks Nick wants this, too, when his mind floats back to Nick holding onto his hand like a lifeline, the way his eyes lit up when they kissed, when he talked about how he hopes the baby gets on with the dogs once they arrive. The thought of Nick planning his future with Harry and the baby makes his heart race. Maybe it’s all meant to be.

They text constantly until Harry’s next appointment, only a few days away from their date, and Nick’s scheduled Harry last so the two of them can go to dinner right afterwards. Harry spends the whole day excited over seeing Nick again, and the baby must sense it since they’re especially active today, kicking the same spot over and over. Sarah and Glenne fawn over him all day, knowing that he’s going to see Nick and asking when they’re going to make it official.

“It’ll only be our third date,” Harry says with a laugh, and Glenne rolls her eyes. “That’s a little fast, isn’t it?” He wonders why his friends are so insistent that he asks so early on.

“He’s your  _ doctor _ , H, and you’ve got a baby on the way.” She reaches out to touch his bump lightly. “I don’t think anything about this is remotely traditional. It’s already in high gear.”

He looks to Sarah who nods. “If he’s talking about spending time with bub, I think he’s thinking about the long term, love.”

His heart jumps when she says it, but he knows she’s right.

He knows what he needs to do.

*

Harry takes in a breath as he walks into Nick’s office, holding onto the pie he’s brought with him for dear life. He thinks Nick will understand and appreciate the gesture, but he’s still a bit nervous about everything. He tugs his pink jumper down, flared jeans swishing as he takes another step toward the door.

“Hi Star Baker,” Nick greets him warmly, eyes crinkling at the corners with the size of his grin. Harry smiles back at him, heart pounding in his chest. The office is empty now, just the two of them standing in the waiting room, and Harry’s taken back to when they were alone here just a few months ago. It all feels so different now, so much more familiar in a way he never could’ve predicted.  _ Nick _ feels so much more familiar. “Ooh, you’ve brought me a present!”

“Of course,” Harry replies, and it’s always so easy with Nick.

“What kind of pie have you got for me today, hmm?”

He holds it out so Nick can get a better look, taking in a breath. “Banana cream.”

It’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room when he says it, like Nick completely understands the gravity of it all. He stares at the pie incredulously for a moment, opening his mouth then closing it. He shakes his head slightly. “I told you I actually make them,” Harry says, sounding more confident than he feels, and Nick starts to laugh. 

“It’s just - I thought you said that…” He stops himself for a moment, making eye contact with Harry. “Have I really worked my way up to it?”

“More than,” Harry laughs, and Nick smiles again, looking more at ease as he takes the pie from Harry’s hands, their fingers brushing lightly. “This has all been so crazy and so fast, but I dunno. Our dates have been wonderful, and from the moment I met you I felt like I’d known you my entire life.” Nick’s face softens, and Harry looks away for a second to compose himself. “I’m not sure why I’m giving you a speech. I’m just being really fucking dramatic.” Nick laughs, loud and bright. “I dunno...do you wanna maybe eat banana cream pie a little more often?”

“Would I like to eat banana cream pie a little more often?” Nick parrots, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Yeah, like, date me, and I’ll make you banana cream pie more often. Or any other pie. Chocolate, I know you like that, or bakewell tarts, I guess. It doesn’t have to be solely pie –”

Harry’s cut to an abrupt stop when Nick presses his lips against his, careful to hold the pie away from them so they don’t end up covered in whipped cream. Harry wraps his pink painted nails around Nick’s neck, touching the soft hair at the base of his neck, and deepens the kiss. 

“I’d love to,” Nick whispers when he pulls away, and Harry leans his forehead against Nick’s, giggling softly into his mouth.

“Yeah?” Harry breathes.

Nick nods against him, lighting up like the sun. “Yeah.” He pulls away to kiss Harry’s forehead. “I’m really glad you asked. I  _ really  _ like you, H.”

Harry smiles, looking down at his feet for a moment as he feels his cheeks start to turn pink. “I really like you, too.”

“Think I’d like you even without the pies, but they do help.” Nick chuckles to himself, sticking his tongue out.

Harry swats his shoulder lightly, giggling. “I’ll take the pie back, Nicholas.”

Nick sticks his finger into the whipped cream on top, drawing a line straight through it, then boops Harry’s nose with it before sticking it into his mouth. “Mine now. No take-backs.” He starts into the back room, Harry following behind him and leaving a trail of laughter in his wake. Nick turns to face him wearing a grin, watching as he wipes the whipped cream off his nose. “I don’t mind sharing, though.”

*

Stevie Sawyer Styles makes her way into the world on November 30th with Nick at Harry’s side, not as his doctor but as his boyfriend. Harry cries when he sees her, overcome with a love he really didn’t know was possible, and Nick’s right there to wipe his tears and kiss his forehead as they look on at their daughter.

She’s the most beautiful thing that Harry’s ever seen - so tiny and perfect and  _ his, theirs _ \- and he can’t believe he gets to spend the rest of his life with her, watching her grow up and teaching her all the things she needs to know. Stroking a silver painted nail down her cheek, he whispers, “I’m so lucky to have you, darling.” She makes a small cooing noise that he takes to mean she feels the same way.

He can’t stop staring at her, and he doesn’t want to ever let her go, but when Nick asks to hold her, of course he can’t say no. He takes her out of the safety of Harry’s arms, and Harry gently chides him to be careful, even though he knows Nick will be. Harry watches as he nestles Stevie softly against him, smile immediately coming over his face as he looks down at her.

“Hi, little love,” Nick whispers, and tears fill his eyes, too. She’s as much his as she is Harry’s, and Harry has never felt that more than in this moment, the way this is a  _ forever _ thing. Nick reaches out to stroke a finger down her tiny hand, and she holds onto the tip of his finger with what little strength she has. “You look just like your daddy, Miss Stevie. Absolutely beautiful.”

The fact that he’s someone’s dad goes straight to Harry’s heart and makes him smile before something else hits him. “Are you Papa, then?” Harry asks, realizing they’ve never actually talked about this, and Nick flits his eyes up to him like he’s trying the name on for size. “I think it suits you.”

Nick breaks into a wide grin, nodding. “If you’ll let me, then yeah, I’d love to be Papa,” he answers, and Harry’s eyes fill with happy tears again as he looks over at Stevie still gripping Nick’s fingertip.

Harry watches Nick cradle her for a few more minutes, noticing his eyes don’t leave her, either, already equally as protective as he is. Nick must sense that Harry wants the baby back, so he hands her over carefully, gaze still lingering on her delicate face. Harry presses a soft kiss on her forehead before settling her against him again and feels warm all over when her tiny pink lips curl up into a smile. Nick kisses the top of his head, and Harry looks up at him, beaming. “I love you,” Nick whispers. “I love her.”

“I love you, and I love her, too,” Harry answers, leaning into Nick as the two of them stare at their daughter, overwhelmed with happiness.

Harry thinks about the last few months of his life - the crazy whirlwind of having a baby and falling in love when he least expected it, but somehow, sitting in this moment with his whole life ahead of him with his daughter and the man he loves by his side, he feels like everything is easy as pie.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, thanks for reading! Come say hello on tumblr if you're so inclined :) @daintyharru


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